


Collecting Roses

by KainichivonDiamond



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/M, saving wasted characters from canon fates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KainichivonDiamond/pseuds/KainichivonDiamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Sophia never stepped out of the barn. How will the group handle the girl they thought was dead and what has the past few years done to her? And will her past come back to haunt them?</p><p>Starts after the events of season 5 premier, but before the events of Strangers. Follows season 5 with some divergence. Eventual Caryl fic (slowburn).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The History - Carol POV

It had been a long two years since Sophia had vanished. The search had lead them to the farm where they'd joined up with Hershel and his family and ended with the fire that took what had just began to feel like home. Though, for Carol, the hope of finding her little girl again had ended before that. Had ended when Shane unleashed the walkers from the barn and she watched the grief on Hershel's face as what was once his family and friends were gunned down.

She was no different from him, clinging to a thin hope that her daughter would be returned to her.

So she hardened her heart and forced herself to accept it. Tried to get the others to accept what she knew in her heart: Sophia was gone. Shane had believed it within days of her disappearance, if not hours. Most of the group had held out, but eventually accepted it and she'd even awoken one morning to find one had put together a small stick cross to mark an unfilled grave. Rick had been harder, but after they lost Dale, she saw him lay a flower at the cross.

The only one that had refused to give up had been Daryl. The archer had been so determined, the most insistent that they'd find her, and find her alive. It had been a comfort at first, knowing someone was trying so hard for her little girl. After he'd given her the Cherokee Rose, she suddenly saw him for what he was, beyond the rough attitude and redneck speech. A good man.

He'd been angry when she first asked him to stop looking, not wanting to lose him too. The night she'd caught him heading to the woods, maybe to search, or maybe he just wanted to leave, she'd been more afraid of him disappearing than the anger he turned on her. She let him yell, let his words cut to her core, because she knew that that's what he needed.

Would Ed have been so angry about her failure to keep Sophia safe?

For Daryl's sake, she was grateful for the fire, if just to force him to stop looking. It was hard for him to leave even the idea of finding her behind, but as she clung to his back while they sped away on his motorcycle, she knew it was for the best. Through the winter, they made a silent agreement to not discuss it.

The years passed and so much changed. Their group had grown and shrunk over and over. And she'd done things she'd never imagined herself capable of doing when this all started. She could handle a rifle as well anyone in the group; take down a walker with a knife between the eyes and not even blink. She could take out a threat, alive or dead, without fear.

But that had cost her. She would stand her choice with Karen and Dave with a sure justification, though she did grieve them and the choice she had to make. It had cost her home, but she wouldn't regret it.

And Lizzie...

By the time she'd returned to the prison to at least check on the girls, her former home was in ruins. She remembered the ache in her heart and thinking of all the wooden crosses they'd need, though she knew that there wasn't time for that. There'd been escape plans and she couldn't see the bus anywhere. Some must have made it.

She'd seen Tyreese fleeing with the girls and had tailed them. She didn't know what Rick had told Tyreese and didn't want to risk anything, not in front of the girls. So she followed to keep an eye on the girls she'd promised to protect.

In the end, she couldn't protect them though. In the end, they became two more roses for her collection, two more stick crosses. A part of her wished Tyreese had killed her when she'd admitted to killing Karen and David. Wished he'd buried her in front of that house next to the girls she'd failed.

But he hadn't, and it was for the best. She saved the others and was able to give Rick his little girl back, able to give Tyreese his sister back. She got to feel the love that, no matter what way the world shattered them, always felt like home. For a few hours she let herself enjoy the hugs, the joyful tears, even the way Daryl kept near her and refused to leave her alone. She wondered if he'd looked for her, the way he'd looked for Sophia, the way he'd looked for Andrea.

She tried to leave a couple of times, during the nights when they were out in the woods, but nearly the moment she sat up, Daryl was talking to her. Asking if it was a dream or offering his spot closer to the fire if she was cold, because Daryl had an awkward sense of chivalry about him. But he never pushed or called her out on it, even when he'd caught her the one time she'd slipped away without him seeing.

He was a good man.

He was the one who found Sophia.


	2. The Girl in the Tree - Carol POV

It was during a morning hunt. He'd been stalking a doe, he'd later tell her, and hid behind a tree. He'd been lining up the shot when something hit him on the head. When he realized it had been a shoe, he looked up, spotting the girl seated high up in the tree, bare foot dangling down and a pistol pointed at him. It wasn't until he'd coaxed her down that he realized who she was.

She was so much taller. Her stance was guarded as she followed Daryl into the camp, the pistol held in front of her, pointed to the ground but ready to be lifted at the first sign of danger. A heavy looking pack was strapped to her back and Carol could see a knife holstered to each hip. Her hair was dark with grease and grime, uneven from being sawed off with a knife.

Carol's heart froze in her chest when she saw her as she stood slowly from where she'd been kneeling. Sophia's eyes were darting around the group before stopping on Carol. She saw confusion flit across her face before recognition set in.

The pistol hit the ground and the air escaped Carol as the girl slammed into her, causing her to stumble back three steps. Then she was crying, getting an arm between the pack and Sophia to wrap around her shoulders, other cradling the back of the girl's head. Sophia was squeezing her so tight, oh her girl had gotten so strong. Her face was buried in Carol's neck and she could feel her rough, choked breaths against her skin.

"I found this house." Sophia said before shoveling another spoonful of canned beans into her mouth. She wiped her lips on her arm, a habit Carol used to smack her hand for. "There was lotsa 'em in it, but not the tree house in the back. I climbed up there to hide. There was food, mostly chips and soda, kid stuff. And this." She gave the knife on her right hip a pat, a hunting knife with masking tape wrapped around the handle. "That's how I learned being up high is better."

Carol couldn't take her eyes off of her, couldn't stop reaching over to touch her; brush her hair behind her ear, touch her hand as she took the empty can. Sophia flinched the first few times but adjusted quickly and just smiled when she looked at her.

She had new ticks and reactions to everything. As she talked, she'd constantly reach up to scratch at a scar that cut through her left eyebrow. Her hands trembled slightly and her eyes constantly darted everywhere, from every face to the trees that enclosed their camp. She was cagey, around so many people. Had she been alone this whole time?

"Where'd you get the gun?" Carl asked, gesturing to the pistol that rested on the ground next to her. "Where'd you even learn to shoot?"

Sophia's hand went back to her scar. "Found it. I got real good at finding things." She picked it up and turned it in her hand, like she was studying it. "Learned by pointing and pulling the trigger until what was comin' at me stopped. Eventually didn't have to pull so many times." She bit her lip before gesturing to where Judith was sitting in Sasha's lap. "Where'd you get the baby?"

Rick cleared his throat and stepped over to scoop the little girl up. "She's mine." He said, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "Lori...she--"

"She didn't make it." Sophia finished for him, setting her gun back down. "Lots of you didn't make it, huh?" she looked around the group again and Carol could see her studying each face. "Andrea. Shane. Dale. Mr. Douglas." She listed them and there was a somber shift in expressions of the group. "They all didn't make it."

"But you made it." Daryl spoke for the first time since he'd brought Sophie to the camp. He nodded at her when she looked up at him. "You made it."

Sophia swallowed and nodded, biting her lip again. She braced her hands on her knees, an unsure look crossing her face. "I made it." She looked over to Carol and the smile flitted back across her face. "You made it too."

Carol smiled back, reaching yet again to brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. They'd need to find some scissors on one of their next runs. At least even it out. The girl had clearly been sawing it off with a knife whenever it got too long. She was a smart girl; long hair was easily grabbed or snagged. And from the bits of bark Carol could see in her hair, she spent a lot of time in trees. Safe up high.

"There's a small town about half a day from here. Too many walkers for me to clear alone, but we might be able to scavenge from it." Sophia suggested as she turned her focus back to the others. "I've been sticking to farms and isolated houses. Less walkers inside." She reached for her bag and pulled it over so she could dig around in it. "I've got some stuff for catching animals too. Snares." She pulled out a small bottle and handed it to Carol. "I mix that with some food and put it out. Climb up a tree and wait."

Carol turned the bottle in her hands, examining the faded label. "Sleeping pills?" she looked up at her with a small smile.

Sophie nodded and took the bottle back. "Doesn't always work, but usually they'll eat and fall asleep not long after. If you cook 'em good it won't affect you." She shoved them back into her bag. "I can't catch big stuff, though. Like the deer Mr. Dixon used to catch back in Atlanta." The statement was punctuated by gesturing to Daryl. "Sorry my shoe scared off the deer you were hunting. And hit you on the head."

The group shared a quiet laugh as Daryl hunched his shoulders a bit, neck turning a bit red.

"Feeling a little warm, Mr. Dixon?" Glenn chimed in with a teasing grin on his face where he was leaning against a tree. His grin only grew when Daryl turned a glare on him.

"The town is a good idea." Rick cut through the teasing before Daryl could retaliate and he handed Judith back to Sasha. "There's enough daylight left, if we don't lag too much, to make it. You remember which way to it?"

Sophia nodded and hugged her pack to her chest, resting her chin on top of the canvas top. "Follow the sunset off the main roads and you can't miss it." She glanced up to the sky before pointing in the proper direction. "There was a lotta walkers so there might still be good stuff worth takin'. Some stores and stuff too."

Rick nodded and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention to him. "Alright, everyone pack up. We head out in ten. We get there quick, might be able to clear a house, sleep inside for the night."

Shelter and even the possibility of beds was enough motivation to get them all in gear and they soon had their small camp cleared. They formed a more or less proper marching line to begin the way, Sophia walking ahead of even Rick and Abraham to lead the way.


	3. The Guilt - Carol POV

Her fingers dug into the towel as she clutched it to her face, muffling the sounds of her sobs. The others were sleeping throughout the house, minus Rick and Michonne on watch downstairs, and the last thing she needed was one of them to hear her breaking down in the bathroom. She'd been quick to claim the room for her bedding for the night, arguing her smaller size to let her sleep in the tub. She wanted the small semblance of privacy.

Sophia refused to sleep among the group, instead she'd found a way onto the roof. In the woods she would climb high into a tree and tie herself to a thick branch to sleep. There was a spot in the crook of the roof that shielded her from being seen from the front of the house, and she'd pulled out a black tarp from her bag, stating it kept her hidden if she overslept. Her little girl had gotten so clever it nearly took her breath away.

But every time she looked at her daughter, she felt her heart clench and the urge to run away crawl up her spine. The joy was being blacked out by shame and rage and regret. The armor she'd worn around her heart for two years was suddenly paper thin and cracking, being chipped away by razor sharp realizations that filled her veins with ice.

Sophia had been out there, alone, this whole time. She'd been sleeping in trees and on roofs while Carol had forced herself to move on. While Carol had been asking the others to stop looking, Sophia had been scavenging and learning to survive on her own. Maybe they would have found her if she hadn't given up. Maybe Sophia wouldn't have been alone. Maybe the Sophia's hands wouldn't shake and she wouldn't flinch at every movement one of the others made.

Her daughter was alive, but all Carol could really see when she looked at her was a new rose. She had left her daughter alone in the woods. She had failed Sophia in so many ways, again and again and again. Letting her grow up watching Ed beat her mother, failing to keep her safe and by her side when the horde passed them, failed to find her...she'd mourned Sophia for dead when she was out there all along.

But Sophia still smiled for her. Still let Carol touch her; hold her when the urge became too strong to resist. There was none of the anger or resentment that Carol knew she deserved for what she did. Sophia still smiled like she had her entire life when she saw Carol hurting. Even after every way she had changed, Sophia still loved her, still had the part of her that wanted to make her mother's pain go away.

And Carol had given up on her.

There was a knock on the door. Carol sniffed, hurriedly drying her face on the towel and taking a deep breath. She reached over to flick the lock open. "Yeah?" she called out, forcing a practiced strength into her voice.

The door opened with a high pitched creak that begged for an oil can and Daryl poked his head inside. He shuffled awkwardly for a moment before stepping fully inside and shutting the door behind him. Then he leaned back against the wood of it to fix her with a far too knowing look.

He had an annoying habit of that.

Carol stayed seated on the edge of the tub and smoothed the towel over her lap. "You need to sleep sometime, you know." She informed him when she looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"Same for you." He countered, gesturing to the empty tub that was meant to serve as her bed. He shifted a bit in his spot before gesturing to the hall with a jerk of his head. "Caught Carl climbing out the window to the roof. Think they're just talking, but figured you should know."

Carol snorted at the implication, shaking her head. "He missed her. And he hasn't had a kid his age around in so long." Not the age he'd been forced to be, at least. The kids at the prison, despite Carol's best efforts, never became what Carl was; the sort of survivor that this world demanded. Sophia was that age now, even just at fourteen.

Daryl seemed to pick up on her meaning and nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. He had that air about him that he got when he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he was allowed to. It was usually best to leave him to his thoughts and he'd eventually come out and say it.

Carol watched him for a few minutes before moving to grab the small stack of towels she'd found under the sink. Made a better pillow than the thin excuses they had at the prison. She was moving to place them at the end of the tub when he spoke again.

"She's a tough kid." He spoke softly, meeting her gaze when she looked up. He reached up to scratch his cheek, an odd nervous tick. "She survived, well enough. So you don't gotta...you know," he waved his hand in her direction, "feel bad. About what went down back then."

The words cut deeper than they probably should have and Carol felt her throat tighten with emotion. She focused her attention on refolding the towels and positioning them to use as a pillow. "She's strong. Stronger than I ever thought." She allowed herself the small avoidance before swallowing thickly. "...I'm a bad mother."

She could see Daryl tense out of the corner of her eye and immediately shake his head. "No you ain't." he said with a sure conviction. "Ain't nobody thinkin' that, so you shouldn't. Sophia doesn't think that. Mika and Lizzie didn't. Wherever they are, they're probably--"

"They're buried in front of a house in the woods." The words escaped her before she could stop them, her voice tight and bitter. She clenched the towels in her fists and refused to look at him. Tyreese didn't want her to say anything about the girls. Didn't want it coming out, wanted to be able to forget. Even though there was no way for Carol to forget. To ever forget. "I know they're dead. You won't find them up a tree."

There was a stretch of silence between them that threatened to suffocate her. She just wanted to hear the door shut behind him. Wanted to be left alone. There was nothing he could say that would fix what had happened, nothing to make looking at Sophia less painful.

His hand on her shoulder caught her by surprise and had her turning to face him. His face was mostly obscured by shadows and the thick layer of dirt and grime that coated their skins, but his eyes stood out as she met them. And there was that damned look of his, seeing more of her than she wanted to show.

She dropped her head and leaned forward, forehead pressing to his shoulder, much like he had done during their reunion in the woods. He stayed silent but lifted an arm to wrap around her shoulders, giving her a firm squeeze. His other hand stayed unmoving at his side and they just stood in each other's space a long moment.

"Whatever happened, happened." He said to the air above her head and she didn't look up. She could feel when he swallowed from how she was leaned against him. "We need to just start over, all of us."

"I want to." She breathing, finally taking a step back and letting his arm fall from her shoulders.

Daryl gave her one of those small smiles that reminded her so much of Sophia, just begging to make her pain stop. "Well you can." And for right now, at least, she let herself believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a hack, using his 'we can start over' speech, aren't I?


	4. The Plans - Carol POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the, like, year long delay. Had severe writer's block with this. Luckily my girlfriend started watching the show and with the new season, I've been able to start writing again!

When she made her way downstairs that morning, she was surprised to find that she was the last one up. Michonne informed her that Glenn and Maggie were out with one of the new members of the group, the young girl that Glenn had vouched for, scavenging for supplies. Carl was in the living room with Tyreese and Sophia, trying to coax his fussy sister into eating breakfast. She didn’t know where Sasha and Bob were but could venture a guess from the way they looked at each other.

She found Rick and Daryl in the kitchen area, along with the leader of the group that had joined up with them. She briefly wondered where the Hispanic girl and the guy with the mullet were but her attention was swiftly grabbed by the map that the three men were looking over. She also noticed an open phone book next to Daryl’s hand.

“This was where it was, I know it.” Daryl was saying as she approached, sparring her a quick glance before returning his focus back to Rick. He was pointing to a spot on the map that he’d circled with a dying black sharpie. “Westwood Memorial.”

Rick rubbed his hand over his mouth as he stared at that little black circle. “Okay, that’s where they took her from, but we don’t know where they took her to. Even if we go back—”

“It ain’t like they knew we were there. They found us. Maybe it’s like a hunting ground or somethin’.” Daryl cut him off with a counter, tapping the spot again. “We go back, maybe we can catch them. Follow ‘em. We can find her, bring her back.”

“Is this about Beth?” Carol spoke up, moving over to look at the map herself. She glanced at the leader guy (Abraham, was it?) as he stepped out of her way, still wary of him. She didn’t trust him or his just yet. She looked at the phonebook where ‘Westwood Memorial’ was underlined then back to the map.

Daryl nodded, setting his jaw. Carol didn’t know too much about what happened after Daryl and Beth got out of the prison; they stuck together until getting overrun at a funeral home and Beth got taken by a car with a white cross on the back of it. He didn’t press her for what happened with the girls so she returned the courtesy.

Rick still looked a little unsure but Carol had known him long enough to know that they’d be going to that little circle. There was no way he would stop Daryl or Maggie from going, and where Maggie went so did Glenn. And despite the fact that she’d prefer to avoid the potential danger, now that Sophia was here, she knew that wherever Daryl went she’d go too. Rick wouldn’t send that much of the family off without a plan to get them back. Especially when they were going to save one of their own.

“We go, but we play it safe. Scout ahead. There’s a town near enough to scavenge.” Rick tapped a spot a little distance from the circle. “We see what we can find, take a few days to check things out. We owe Beth at least that.”

Carol lifted her eyes from the map and looked over at Abraham, who’d been observing the whole exchange. Rick trusted him enough for him to know their plans and that made her a little uneasy. She needed to speak with Glenn about this guy; Glenn had a better sense about people most of the time. “And what about you?” she asked, opting for bluntness. There was nothing to gain here from dancing around it. “You guys in or out?”

The man lifted his chin and squared his shoulders in a confident way before he spoke. “It’s on the way to DC, so we’ll stick with for a bit longer. If that’s alright with you.” There was a bit of a challenge to his tone, but his mouth quirked in a small semi-smile under that ridiculous mustache. He was clearly an alpha male, but was treading carefully at least.

Carol nodded and looked back to Rick and Daryl. “Well, when do we leave?”

Rick looked out the window, taking a few moments to consider it. “When Glen and them get back, we’ll pack up and go.”

Carol accepted that and decided to leave the three to pour over the map. There were no real chores left to do around the house, so she made her way into the living room to check on Tyreese and the kids. A small smile crossed her face when she saw how Sophia was smiling as she spooned food into Edith’s mouth, the baby bouncing in Carl’s lap.

Tyreese was watching the three of them and Carol couldn’t help but notice how his eyes kept darting to Sophia. It was understandable; Sophia was new to most of the group. Only five of them remained from the quarry camp and Sophia had vanished before they’d found the Greene family. She’d caught many of the others’ gazes lingering on the girl since she rejoined them.

Did Tyreese see the Mika and Lizzie when he looked at Sophia, or was that only Carol?

“Mom?” Sophia’s voice cut through her thoughts and drew her attention back to them. They’d apparently gotten Judith to eat all she would.

The word still sounded awkward to her ear, out of place. Drew her mind to Lizzie, just as it had drawn her to Sophia when Lizzie had said it by mistake. She didn’t snap like she had with Lizzie though, instead forced a smile. Her girl deserved that much.

\-----

“That girl of yours, she was gone for a while, yeah?” Abraham’s voice cut through the dark. He’d volunteered to take watch and Carol had offered to join him. She was beginning to warm up to his group but that didn’t mean she was ready to trust them with her family’s lives. His question still caught her by surprise though and she watched his face silently.

After a moment, she nodded and returned her gaze back to the trees that surrounded the little cabin they’d settled into for the night. “Two years, just about.” She admitted. From the corner of her eye she could see Abraham nod.

“That’s a long time to be missing someone, even before the world fell to shit. Nowadays I’d count it as a damn miracle.” There was an ache buried in his voice, something Carol identified almost instantly.

He’s lost a child.

It shouldn't be that much of a surprise, not really. It was a sad fact of this world. They could pretend it wasn't so, but there were plenty of walkers out there that had barely had the chance to even really be alive. It was a constant fear in the group; they all felt it grip whenever Judith let out a cry or Carl ventured out of sight for a minute. And now Sophia, Carol's greatest fear had been losing her and she had. Now that she was back...

"I didn't think I'd ever see her again." She said quietly, looking forward again. A cross may still stand next to the empty grave on the Greene farm as a testament to how Carol had given up. "A horde had passed over us and she got separated from us. Two chased her into the woods and I..." she swallowed around the lump in her throat, emotions threatening to choke her. It would be impossible to forget the feeling of seeing Sophia run off into the trees.

Two walkers are after my baby!

"She pulled through though. Most adults couldn't have hacked it on their own as long as she did." When she looked at him again, he was staring at her. His eyes matched the ache she'd heard in his voice and it was almost enough to make her want to trust him. "You got a tough kid, lady. And the world's gonna need her, and you, once we get this shit fixed. All you," he gestured back to the house where everyone was sleeping, "the world's gonna need you. We're gonna fix this so kids like your girl don't have to be that strong to make it."

Carol’s mouth pressed into a thin line of a smile. “Even if he can do it, can take out the dead? That’s not going to be enough to fix the world.” She thought of the Governor, of Tomas, the people at Terminus. “The dead dying will just mean that the real threats out there will have something less to fear.”

\---

The group split. An odd feeling of déjà vu washed over her as they approached what was left of the funeral home where Beth had been taken. The plan was to divide up, look for clues, then meet back at the funeral home. Carl, Sophia, and Tyreese would stay there to look after Judith. Carol had been torn about being apart from her daughter, but she was still uneasy with Tyreese’s ability to handle things and Carl needed someone to watch his back. At least it was nice to know exactly where she was, even if she was out of sight.

Glenn, Maggie, and the new girl Tara were one group. Sasha and Bob volunteered to circle around the closest to the building, keep close enough to Tyreese and the kids. Just in case. Rick and Michonne formed a third group that was going to follow not too far from Abraham’s. Carol half-expected those three to vanish even after her conversation with him the night before. Common ground and empathy didn’t always lead to trust, not in this world.

That left Carol following Daryl. He’d offered to head out alone, gesturing to where Sophia was sitting with Judith; Sophia had been extremely taken with the small girl. Carol remembered a freckle faced little girl with braided pigtails, begging for a little brother or sister. She’d barely made it through Sophia’s pregnancy alive, thanks to Ed, she couldn’t risk it again. But it made her happy to see her with little Judith. Besides, she knew it was important to let Sophia adjust to the group after being alone for so long. She’d yet to really say anything to those that hadn’t been with them at Atlanta, and even then her words had been short with everyone but Carl. Carol didn’t know what the two of them would talk about, but she hoped it helped them both.

She let Daryl take the lead as they searched. He’d given her a few lessons with tracking, back at the prison, but he was sill the expert. She could find game and see most of the less obvious signs, but Daryl could see things you’d think were invisible. Beth had been taken by a car but there were plenty of car tracks in the dirt. Most were fading, nearly wiped away by wind and shuffled feet.

“Might be better off following the road.” She suggested when the sky began to darken above. She glanced about the area, spotting a walker stumbling near the tree line. “Woods offer good coverage. Could keep an eye out for these white cross people and a new place to claim.”

Daryl grunted, and she almost missed the slight tense to his shoulders, as he sidestepped a set of footprints. He tilted his head as he studied them. “Beth ran through here.” He gestured to some of the smaller prints, “Still had on the boots Zach got her on a run.”

“Do you have all our shoe treds memorized?” she moved to look at the prints herself. They were certainly small enough to be Beth’s, and the pattern looked like boots. Boots were common wear these days though; not much call for heels or pumps in the apocalypse.

Daryl grunted again in response to her question, doing his little sidesteps as he followed the tracks. She took that to mean that he did. That honestly didn’t surprise her, not with him. She followed him as they walked towards the road along the path left for them by Beth’s small boots. There were a few flecks of blood mixed in with the dirt. Beth may have been hurt as she escaped. Daryl didn’t know, but it was always possible.

It would be dark before they got back, that much was clear. Daryl was as reluctant to turn back now as he had been all those years ago. But she had more guts now, held no fear to grab his arm to begin pulling him back. Everyone had to be back by now.

“We can look more tomorrow. Follow the road, like I said. If they come back by here, they’ll have to take the roads.” She gave his arm a pull. The sky was beginning to turn black. So much for back by dark. She hoped Sophia wouldn’t worry.

Daryl let out a breath, a little sigh, but nodded.

They kept to the trees not far from the road. The map before had shown it to lead back to the funeral home. It would be too dark soon to risk going through the woods; too easy to get lost. Twenty, twenty-five minutes to get back. Rick and Michonne had to be back by now. Rick wouldn’t let it get dark without having Carl and Judith in his sights.

There was a car at the side of the road that served as a marker when they were closer. A small hatchback with a pinch of gas in it; they’d found it along the way. With so little gas it was best to leave it there in case something happened and they needed a getaway. It wouldn’t fit all of them, but the kids and a few adults would fit. The rest of them were strong enough to catch up and survive. They had a tendency to find each other, their little family. Drawn together again and again like fate. Or like moths to a flame. She was never too sure, with them.

Maybe it was that fate that made her decide to peer into the car. Check it, make sure the few supplies they stashed beneath the front seat were still there. Still she stopped, and Daryl stopped with her. A few minutes more would be fine. She just needed to check, felt a compulsion to.

The car sped past so fast that she barely saw the headlights beyond a flash. Then the butt of Daryl’s crossbow was slamming into the headlights of the car. Shattering plastic and glass sounded too loud in the darkness.

“The hell are you doing?!” she asked, voice too loud with alarm.

“The crosses!” he pointed after the car that had sped past, now out of sight. But not too far to be unable to follow, not yet. He was climbing in the passenger seat since she was next to the driver’s seat. “Get in! We have to go! They’ve got Beth!”

She spared a quick look back towards where the funeral home, and Sophia, was. Then she was climbing in to start the car and speed away after the car.


	5. The Hospital - Daryl POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching to Daryl's POV after the events of Consumed

His mind was on fire, every muscle in his body strung tight enough to snap. He just kept seeing it-- that moment of impact. The squeal of the tires and the soft thud of her body hitting the ground. He'd seen red-- he wanted to tear them limb from limb for even daring. But the kid had blocked his way and, really, he knew he couldn't help her. Not yet. The kid said they needed people; he'd bring a goddamn army if that's what it'd take.

The military guy's group was gone by the time he'd gotten back to the funeral home, along with Glenn, Maggie, and the new girl. That pissed him right off-- he'd hunt them down and drag them back after this was done. He was not losing any more of their family, no. But after Carl and Michonne volunteered to stay behind with Judith, that left them with seven for their assault/rescue mission. Eight once they got a weapon to Beth, maybe more if the other wards joined with them like Noah said they would.

Sophia was real quiet when he got back to the funeral home with Noah. Had just sat there, watching him deliver the news to everyone. Rick said later she'd locked herself in a back room with Carl and Judith while the rest of them dealt with some assholes that had followed them back from Terminus. They'd tried to grab Bob but Sasha had put down one, injuring and capturing another. Managed to spring a trap and put down the rest. Something Rick said, though, about the whole thing made his neck itch.

"She had the door open, just...watching. Carl said she was keeping an eye out in case he needed warning to escape with Judith."

"What're ya thinkin?"

Rick had shaken his head, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Not sure yet. Just...keep an eye on her, while we do this. Maybe she's just stressed over being away from Carol. Don't let her out of sight if you can help it. "

\-------

Keeping Sophia in his sights proved any easier task to agree to than to actually accomplish. Girl was good at making herself unseen. He hadn't so much as looked down to count his bolts and she had slipped out a door. He swore under his breath. Rick was still out hunting down the cop that had slipped out under Tyreese's watch. Shit. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and, calling a go-ahead back to Sasha to follow through with the plan if he wasn't back in time, ran after her.

He caught up to her in an alley where she'd stopped to drive her knife through the skull of a female walker. She was kneeling to carve open its abdomen when she heard his steps and whirled to aim her pistol at him. Her eyes narrowed when she saw it was him but she still lowered the gun. "It's just you. Keep watch." The she was plunging the blade into the thing's belly, sending its rotted guts spilling onto the pavement.

"The hell are you doin' out here?" he looked up and down the alley, ears straining to hear beyond the ever present sounds of walker groans and scuffling. "We got a plan ta getcher mom an' Beth back."

"You got your plan, I got mine." She scooped up a handful of walker guts to slather over her arm. "I'm small enough to slip through the walkers in the parking garage that he told us about. Then I can climb up the elevator shaft. Get 'em from behind." Another handful for her other arm.

Daryl had to suppress a groan. They didn't have time for this. "What's your plan after that? Take on all of 'em by yerself with a pistol and some knives?"

She looked up at him again as she smeared rotten blood onto the sides of her neck. She seemed to consider for a moment, making it clear she hadn't thought too far ahead with her 'plan', before coming to a decision. Her attention went back to covering herself in more gunk. "We'll be back up then. Sneak in and be there if things go bad."

The 'we' surprised him a bit; Sophia hadn't exactly warmed up to any of them outside of her mother and Carl. It wasn't exactly like she'd had a chance with the constant shit storm of a life they were living. Back with them less than a week and she'd seen them kill crazy cannibals, her mother had been kidnapped, and now they were in a hostage exchange with a group of cops. He vaguely realized that this was probably the most words she'd exchanged with any of them other than Carl since that first day.

Dragging her back would happen without a fight, if she was anything like her mother. Which, judging by the way she was coating herself in gore, there was a safe bet she'd inherited her mom's fire. The idea of hurting her, even in accident while trying to protect her, twisted his stomach. Not to mention how Carol would react once they got her back. And if Sophia managed to get away from him or if they attracted walkers while they struggled...

Shit.

With a self-loathing groan, he swung his crossbow into his hands and moved to the end of the alley. They were going to need another walker.

\-------

His back was killing him by the time he reached the top of the elevator shaft, hauling himself over the edge of the floor. He shifted to a sitting position and let his crossbow rest on the linoleum floor as he worked to regain his breath. Might be getting too old for shit like this.

At least Sophia wasn't faring much better; her face was coated in a thin sheet of sweat that had the previously dried blood dripping off her chin. Rivets of almost clean skin shown through the grime on her neck. She tugged off her filthy overshirt, leaving her in a threadbare looking wifebeater tank top, and turned it inside out to use as a towel for her face. Then she held it out to him, frowning when he waved it away. And wasn't that just Carol's exact 'don't try me, buddy' face. It was almost enough to make him laugh.

"Catch your breath. I'm gonna check the area." She didn't give him the chance to argue before she was ducking down a connecting hallway, the shirt left on the floor next to him.

"Fuckin' pain in the ass..." he grunted, grabbing the shirt off the ground. Might as well. Once he'd given his face a quick wipe, he balled the fabric up to stuff in his pocket. Hard enough finding clothes that fit Beth or Maggie.

He pulled himself to his feet after a few minutes, scooping up his crossbow. He loaded it and notched it to his shoulder, finger resting on the trigger, before following down the hall Sophia had disappeared down. He got about halfway down the hall when a door behind him opened and a voice cried out.

"Hey!"

Whatever confidence or indignation the kid'd had in his voice vanished the second Daryl whirled to put him in his sights. The kid's face went white and his hands shot up way above his head. By the oversized scrubs he was wearing, Daryl took it that he was one of the 'wards' Noah had mentioned.

She moved like a shadow and even his honed hunter's ears couldn't make out the sound of her boots on the linoleum; if he couldn't see her, he wouldn't even know she was sneaking up behind the kid. He saw the glint of her knife's blade only an instant before she was dragging it across the kid's throat, other hand clamping down over his mouth to prevent him from crying out. She followed his fall down, hand never leaving his mouth even as he coughed and gurgled blood. Her hands--he had a brief flashback  to an image of them clutching that doll he would find in the mud-- were stained crimson. When the kid, just a kid couldn't be older than Beth, stopped moving aside from wet gasps, she stood. She wiped at her chin, trying to avoid the blood on her hand but still managing to smear red. The knife drove into the side of his temple before cleaning it against her jeans and returning it to the holster on her hip. Then she was kneeling to rummage through the kid's pockets.

It wasn't the blood that was destroying his equilibrium, or really even the fact that he saw her kill someone. He'd seen and spilled more blood than he could remember in the last few years to even flinch at it now, but this...it wasn't the blood, it was the look on her face. Detached and cold, like she hadn't just killed someone in cold blood. Shit, the kid hadn't even been close to a threat.

"Not even a knife?" she grumbled, nose wrinkling. She used the bottom of the kid's blue scrubs to clean off her hands before standing and giving him an expectant look. "C'mon, we don't know if someone heard or is gonna come looking for him." She pushed past him, drawing her gun.

Daryl caught her by the upper arm to stop her, searching her face for a sign of...something. Anything to justify what she'd just did. Regret, anxiety, something. But no. She just gave him an annoyed look before pulling her arm free. "Stop wasting time. We need to be ready if the exchange doesn't work."

There wasn't time to argue this, though his mind echoed back to grabbing Carol's hand to stop her from shooting Noah. It occurred to him for the first time that he'd never stopped to think about _how_ she had survived on her own these past two years. Hadn't connected the dots between being a survivor and what that cost these days, not with her. Part of him hadn't let him look past the fact that she was alive long enough to ask how.

It was a mistake bringing her along for this. She was the biggest unknown and, he realized with a cold chill, the biggest risk.

They approached a hall where voices could be heard. This time when he grabbed her arm she stopped. He tugged her behind him and pressed a finger to his lips before working their way towards the sounds.  They came to a corner where he was able to see the backs of a couple of people in blue scrubs and a smattering of cop uniforms.

"One of yours for one of mine." Rick made the offer, gun never leaving the head cop's, Dawn from what their captives had said, head. Daryl heard Sophia draw in a sharp breath when Carol could be glimpsed as one of the officers wheeled her forward. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, partially to keep her in place as well as to steady himself. Both of them should be over there to bring her back. It bothered him more that it probably should that it was Tyreese that took her arm to steady her as she stood and not him. It was his fault she was here in the first place; he should've been the one to help her. He swore he would make it up to her once they were free of this place.

Beth was next and the sight of her sent a rush of relief through him. Tough ass pain in the neck. The air about her was different, he noted, as she crossed the hall. She accepted Rick's kiss to the forehead with a small smile, but the way she was holding herself brought his mind to a predator. She was poised to strike, just waiting for a reason.

"Get out of there." He muttered under his breath, a feeling of dread coiling in his gut.

Their group started to back away when Dawn spoke again, "Now I just need Noah. Then you can leave."

Shit.

Sophia tensed under the hand still on her shoulder.

"That wasn't part of the deal." Rick's tone was angry as he put an arm out as if to block access to the kid. "The boy just wants to go home. You have no claim on him."

"One of my officers died trying to bring him back. Either he stays or Beth does. Else we have no deal." She lifted a hand to cut off one of the officers who tried to argue. "One stays. Your choice."

Daryl's jaw tightened when Beth pushed forward when Noah tried to get passed Rick. _Go back._

It all happened in the spans of a heartbeat. Something metal flashed in Beth's hand before Dawn let out a choking sound and two gunshots cut through the air. Sophia was gone from beneath his hand; everyone was turned to see where she now stood. The cop that had been standing at the back of the group was on the ground, a pool of blood growing rabidly beneath his left knee. Sophia was behind him, one hand holding the back of his collar while the other pressed her gun against the back of his head. Daryl lifted his crossbow on instinct, eyes darting to their group. He couldn't see Dawn anymore but Beth was still standing, blood splattering her face and leaking down her neck from what remained of her left ear.  Every gun was drawn and it was rapidly becoming obvious who was better armed.

One of the male cops turned his gun up and lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture. "It's over. It was about her," he jerked his chin towards the floor, "it's over. Just go and let us take care of our man."

Daryl met Rick's eye. Rick flicked his gaze to where Sophia was holding her hostage and Daryl nodded in understanding. He moved, pushing Sophia out of the way so he could grab the guy's collar and haul him to his feet. The poor bastard was white as a sheet from blood loss.  Daryl used him as a sort of human shield as he crossed the hall to rejoin the group, keeping a wall at his back and Sophia at his side. She kept her gun pressed to their hostage's side until they crossed the threshold past the hospital group.

Daryl shoved him back to his group, chancing a glance to where Sophia had pressed forward to wrap herself around Carol's waist. His eyes moved down to where he could now see Dawn slumped against the wall, eyes empty and lifeless, a pair of tiny metal scissors jutting out of the side of her neck. Shit. He glanced at Beth, who was moving towards the exit. What happened to her here?

\-------

Rick caught him as he helped Carol into the passenger seat of the truck, pillows of donated bags cushioning her. Sophia was ignoring her mother's protests and sitting on the floor between the seats, never taking her eyes off the injured woman. Daryl could see the blood still smeared on her chin, tinted brown as it dried.

Most of the group was in the back of the truck, the exceptions being Abraham, Rosita, Glenn, and Tara, who all piled into the vehicle they'd arrived in with Michonne, Carl, and Judith. Maggie had gone to the truck to help clean Beth's mangled ear and pretty much cling to her sister in general. Mullet looked in need of a good patching too. Daryl took it all to mean that whatever cure he'd been spouting about back in the cattle car to be bullshit. Figured. Didn't matter too much to him. So long as he had their weird ass family he was content as he could ever remember being before the Turn.

Rick walked him a distance enough away from the truck, shooting a look back at the vehicle. "The hell were you two?" he kept his voice low and Daryl had known him long enough to hear the stress in his tone. "If you were going to recon, you could've--"

"Wasn't my plan." Daryl cut him off. He worried the inside of his cheek, considering his next words. "She just, shit, took off. Followed to get her to come back but she's a stubborn kid. Wouldn't listen. Had to stick with her. Then we came across this kid and...shit, Rick."

Rick looked back again and Daryl didn't fail to notice the way his hand twitched near where his gun was holstered. The implication had his gut churning. "You think she's dangerous?"

There was a conflicting answer to that. He thought of the way she clung to her mother, her willingness to share supplies and knowledge with the group, the gentle way she handled Lil Ass Kicker. Who knows how things might've played out if she hadn't shot out the cop's knee to give them a way out. They could've lost people. But the coldness on her face refused to leave his mind. Who knows what she'd been through in the last few years, what she'd done to survive? Her hands certainly weren't any cleaner than any of theirs. That kid wasn't the first life she'd taken, that was crystal clear. "Don't think she'd try an' hurt any of us." He conceded, "But she ain't no harmless thing. Bottom of it is, we don't know her anymore. Only one who might is Carl."

"I'm not gonna put him in that position." Rick said with certainty. "He might lie if he thinks it'll put her on the outs with us and he would've told me if he thought she was a threat. Sure as hell wouldn't let her near Judith." He sighed and moved to run a hand through his hair. "We'll keep an eye on her. Once we get a chance to settle down, we'll talk with Carol and figure out what to do from there. For now we just gotta get somewhere safe where we can all catch our breath."

Daryl nodded, reaching to give Rick's shoulder a brief squeeze. Sophia, whatever was going on with her, would be more in control while she could focus on Carol, he was sure. So their priority needed to be getting to a place where Carol could actually rest and recover. Then they could figure out where to go and what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh one of these days I'll not take a thousand years to update this. Hopefully a longer chapter than the previous ones will help make up for the wait -_- and hey we're finally approaching the plot!


	6. The Questions - Daryl POV

It was nearly three weeks before she was able to move freely. Her body still ached in the aftermath of Atlanta, despite her own impatience. They’d managed to camp out in an abandoned hotel while she’d recovered and everyone regrouped. Despite her protests and insistence that she’d be fine, she was never alone. Sophia was glued to her side; she even slept inside the hotel room beside her. Besides her daughter, Beth was often there when she wasn’t helping with supply runs. She was a stronger girl, in the wake of everything that had happened. Daryl meant to tell her so but there was an awkward air anytime he tried and she refused to let it settle. Instead he'd settled for knocking her shoulder with a loose fist the way Merle had used to do to him and hoped she got the message.

But with all things, staying in one place, especially one as poorly defensible, for too long was a bad idea. So once Carol was healed enough to move, they packed up and headed out. She insisted that it was a relief to be moving about again, even with her obvious lingering pains. Sophia finally left her side to walk with Carl near the front of the group. They hadn't had any instances during their stay at the hotel, but Sophia had still receded back into silence for the most part. She'd hardly said a word to him since they'd left Grady.

Casting a look about, he let himself slow to fall into step beside Carol at the back of the group. He'd attempted to keep a distance while she was healing if just to keep from embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to fret over her. She still gave him teasing smiles and comments whenever she caught him leaving whatever painkillers he'd managed to scavenge on the table next to her bed. It made his neck burn but he took some relief that she was still herself. He'd never forgive himself for getting her hurt like that.

"You doing okay?" he asked, eyes lingering on the fading bruises on her neck. He could still vaguely make out the line left by the seatbelt.

She obstructed his view by rubbing at her shoulder, forcing his gaze back to her face. Her mouth quirked a bit at the corner before she shook her head. "I'm fine, you mother hen. I don't see you fussing this much over Beth. She got hurt too, you know."

He let out a huff of breath and rolled his eyes. He pointedly looked to where Beth was gesturing wildly as she talked with Maggie. She'd already removed the bandaging from her ear, leaving the angry red flesh to finish healing in the air. The bullet had torn off most of her ear and damaged her hearing from what they could tell but it wasn't life threatening. They'd gotten lucky; a jerk of Dawn's hand and the bullet could've gone through her brain.

"Beth wasn't in two car accidents in a row." He pointed out with a frown. They needed to find some vehicles soon, get her off her feet. She must've seen the concern on his face cause she leaned over to elbow him lightly in the ribs. She could always read him better than anyone ever could; maybe that should bother him but it never had. Not like he couldn't read her easy as anything. Their little family was his heart, no question, but Carol was the very center of it.

"Nine lives, remember?" her smile was teasing but reassuring. He elbowed her back, careful not to put any real pressure on her.

He looked up to where Sophia was walking beside Carl, making faces at Judith who was bouncing in a sling on her brother's back. Little Ass Kicker was grinning and tugging on Carl's hair. Hard to believe what either of them was capable of when they were around the little girl, but he supposed that was true for any of them. Hard not to soften up around Judith.

Still, Sophia was comfortable being a bit apart from her mother now. Rick would want to have the talk soon. Much as he hated to admit it, he was nervous. Recent events seemed to wipe away any bad blood between the two but Daryl knew them both well enough to know there was a thousand ways this could go to shit. Worst case, someone loses their temper and someone gets hurt. Or Carol gets defensive, takes off with Sophia. The idea of them splitting apart again had his blood heating up. No, no way. He would not let that happen again.

They'd be walking till nightfall, most likely. And with how low their food was running...yeah, that would work. He nudged her again with his elbow. "Put your money where your mouth is?" he gestured towards the treeline off the road, pulling his crossbow off his back. "See if you've forgotten how ta hunt while lazin' about."

Her smile was bemused, she knew he was up to something, but she didn't question him. "No pouting when I take the better shot." She teased again as they broke apart from the group, calling back what they were doing. She waved a hand when Sophia moved to follow.

Five minutes of walking and they were alone. Daryl actually made a show of looking around for any signs of game as he worked out how to start this. It'd be better coming from him than Rick. Not to mention the chance that Rick would either take this too hard or too soft. Man was a better brother to him than Merle had ever been Daryl wasn't fool enough to be blind to his faults.

Carol gave him a few minutes, looking around herself, and then she was laying a hand on his arm. He met her stare, gaze darting between those gray eyes. Her fingers gave his arm a light squeeze that had him lowering the crossbow. "We need to talk. About what happened back there." He explained which only served to have her hand move to his shoulder for just a second, then she was stepping back out of his space.

She adjusted the strap of her gun to it could hand loose at her hip and crossed her arms across her chest. Her mouth tugged down in a frown. "I thought we were passed that. Everything worked out for the bet--"

"Not that." He cut her off. No matter what she could say, he'd still feel guilty about putting her in that position. Just thinking of her getting hit by that car was enough to make him want to go bust open those cops' heads. But this wasn't about him or his guilt or any of his thousand regrets. "It's about--fuck, Carol, it's about Sophia."

Carol's whole body stiffened, eyes wide and wild for a fraction of a second. Just as quick her shoulders were lowered but the cross of her arms was less casual irritation and more defensive. She didn't twitch towards her weapons at least. "What about her?" her tone was measured and even and Daryl hated that she was using it with him.

Still, this needed to be handled before they all regretted it. "She ran off while we were plannin' the exchange. Wanted to take on the whole place by herself. Had ta go with her, 'cause else she wouldn't come back."

Her face softened at that, just a bit. She shook her head and made an odd waving motion with her hand. "That was stupid and reckless of her. Thank you for looking out for her; I'll talk with her and—"

"God damn it, Carol, she killed someone!" he blurted out, irritated. "It was just a kid, shit, and she just...he didn't have a gun 'r nothin' an' she just killed him. Didn't even care when she saw he didn't have a weapon." He took a deep breath and tried to push away the image of her face. Tried to ignore the echoes of dread the scene had left in him. "She never even flinched."

“I didn’t flinch at Terminus.” She countered with a barely noticeable tremble to her hands. “You didn’t, when the Governor attacked. We’ve all killed people. No one survives now without...without stopping someone else from doing so. She was…I’m sure she was doing what she thought she had to.”

There was a deeper fear to her voice, something echoing back. To Sophia? To Lizzie and Mika?

He took a step closer but stopped when she took a step back. “This was different. She was cold about it. Don't care what ya try ta say, we ain't cold people. We can’t ignore this. Rick thinks—“

“You told _Rick_?” he practically flinched at the betrayal in her voice. She shook her head, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of _course_ you told him. There are no secrets from him in this group.” Her fingers moved to rub at the center of her forehead. “What does Rick think?”

He studied her for a moment before answering. “We need to know what happened to her, while she was gone. Treat her like a stranger. Ask the questions.”

How many walkers have you killed? How many people? Why?

“And if she gives answers you guys don’t like?” her shoulders squared as she met his stare again, fire back in her eyes. She’d fight tooth and nail for any of them, he knew, but this went beyond them. She didn't have it in her to lose Sophia again and he'd sooner kiss a walker than watch her go through that pain again.

“Then we bring her back. Same as Carl, same as any of us that stepped too far.” He took a step towards her again and was relieved that she held her ground this time. He shifted his crossbow to his shoulder, reaching to set a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her hand to cover his but otherwise held still. “We ain’t gonna lose her again. She’s family. I ain't gonna let anything happen ta either of you, not while I can help it.”

She gave him a sad sort of smile and squeezed his hand. She brushed her fingers over the back of his wrist, pausing for just a moment; then she was shrugging away from the contact. “C’mon. If we’re gone too long, they might start to talk. Wouldn’t want them to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Stop.”

\-------

They found a rundown old farmhouse to settle into for the night. It was filled with the stench of rotted wood courtesy of a splintered hole in the ceiling of the kitchen. Better than the vomit-inducing smell that slapped them in the face when they opened the door to the basement. Fuck that. At least it was mostly dry and most of the windows were intact. Wasn't a home but it'd serve decent enough for a night.

Once watch shifts were sorted, everyone set about claiming spots around the living room. Too many people to fit comfortably in such a small space but they'd all been in worse spots. Rick sent looks to both Daryl and Carol and gestured to the hallway that led to the bathroom and bedroom. Carol sighed and moved to where Sophia was helping pick through the kitchen cabinets. Daryl gave Judith’s head a pat in passing as he went down the hall, trying to ignore the looks Carl was giving them all. Daryl took it that Rick hadn't stopped to talk to him about Sophia.

Sophia was nervous from the moment she entered the room, fingers snagging the elbow of Carol’s jacket. Daryl stood with his back to a corner, Rick by the door to close it after them. She got a cagey look about her, eyes darting between the door and the boarded up window on the far wall. Whatever ease she'd fallen into in the last three weeks was forgotten almost instantly. Girl could read a room.

Carol took her daughter’s hand, “It’s okay. We just want to talk with you now that things have settled a bit.” She tugged her to sit on the edge of the bed. “We haven’t really gotten to talk since you found us again.”

Sophia’s free hand scratched at the scar through her eyebrow anxiously. “Talk about what?” her voice was tight, like she had to force the words out.

Daryl shared a look with Rick before the sheriff turned his focus back to the girl. “We have these…questions that we ask whenever we meet a survivor that we think would help us." He gave a little tilt of the head and placed his hands on his hips. "Something to help us determine who they are. We’d like to ask you those questions.”

“You know who I am.” Her voice was defensive; hand in Carol’s squeezing tight enough to look painful from where Daryl was standing. "I'm Sophia. What...I'm still who I am. I am."

Carol clasped her other hand around her daughter’s. “We know. But…you’ve been through so much, Sophia.” She lifted a hand to brush a lock of hair away from Sophia’s eyes, tucking it behind her ear. She pressed her palm to the girl’s cheek. “Please, just answer the questions. For me.”

Sophia swallowed thickly but nodded all the same. She looked back to Rick, squaring her shoulders in a show of strength. Like mother like daughter. “Okay. Ask.”

Rick nodded, mouth twitching. He cleared his throat, “How many walkers have you killed?”

Sophia’s mouth pinched and she looked between them as if for confirmation. “Ah…I don’t know? A couple dozen? You stop counting after a point…”

Typical reply. Daryl took the next one, “How many people?” he could still see the kid’s face, her bloody hands.

Her brows furrowed as she met his eye, gaze calculating. She seemed to be weighing her words in her head. “What does it matter?” she looked around again. The answer in their faces didn’t let her out of it. She frowned again and locked her eyes on her knee. “…five, counting the guy at the hospital.”

Carol didn’t look away from her daughter’s face. Daryl could see her arm flex as she squeezed Sophia’s hand.

“Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my two chapters in less than six months what the hell is this


	7. The Past - Sophia POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter kiiinda got away from me and ended up being super long, since I wanted it all to happen in one chapter. I hope you enjoy learning what happened to Sophia as much as I did writing it

Memory was funny. She could remember certain things with perfect clarity; the taste of the fish Amy and Andrea had caught the day of the cookout, the grade she'd gotten on a science test two months before the Turn, her father's face right before he'd start yelling. She could remember the sounds of her mother crying through the wall that separated her bedroom from the bathroom. But other things, things she wanted to remember more than anything, were fuzzy and faded in her mind. The shape of her mother's smile, the feeling of chocolate melting in her mouth, the way the pickaxe handle, the one that her mother had put through her dad's head, had felt when she'd sneaked a touch. Maybe something had always been wrong with her; she'd never cried for her father. Had been happy, in fact. The idea that he would never hurt them ever again had even helped cut away the sadness that losing Amy and Jim _had_ left in her.

She wished she'd been strong enough to kill him, back then. Strong enough to protect them from him, from the walkers, from anything that thought to try to hurt them. She'd been a weak little girl then, but she wasn't anymore. She was strong enough to survive this world, to survive whatever it tried to do to knock her down. She'd survive and she'd find her mom again. This time she _would_ protect her even better than her mother had protected her for so many years.

They'd found her picking through the charred remains of a cabin, her clothes and skin covered in a generous layer of walker guts and blood. Six of them, four men and two women, all with guns drawn while hers sat uselessly in its holster at her hip. She was smarter than to reach for it; she'd be dead before she could grab it, most likely. So instead she had lifted her hands above her head in a sign of surrender.

Once her weapons had been confiscated—not the knife in her boot though—one of the women lowered her gun. She was a tall thing with a mess of black curls shoved into a bun. "Where's your group?"

Sophia drew a careful breath through her nose, considering her answer. A lie might put them on edge, make them think someone was around, watching. Might back off. Or they might call her bluff and she'd be worse off. So, truth then and hope they believed it. "Don't got one."

Two of them, a black man with a shaved head and a guy that was clearly only a few years older than her, exchanged looks. "How old are you?" the older guy asked, gesturing with his gun like that would make her answer.

Another breath to consider. It was nearing March, best she could figure, so that meant her birthday had passed. "Thirteen."

More looks were exchanged. They seemed to come to a decision and the girl with the bun holstered her gun while the others leveled theirs at Sophia's head. Her wrists were grabbed and pulled behind back where she felt a bite of plastic against her wrists. Zip ties. They'd come with the intent of bringing someone back.

She was put in the open bed of a pickup truck along with Bun Girl, the teenager, and a man that reminded her way too much of Shane. She could practically smell the anger on him. To be safe she scooted back into the corner farthest from him, fingers seeking out the sun heated metal to try to find something to rub the binds on.

As little as six months ago she would've prayed to be found by people. She'd fantasize about being found and taken to a place where she'd be magically reunited with her mom and Carl and Eliza. Now, though, all she wanted to do was jump out of this truck. Could maybe make it to the treeline before they thought to shoot at her.

Instead she sat there, watching the way they were watching her. The Shane guy kept his gun pointed at her even when he was looking at the trees or the road. Teen was talking through the window to the one in the cab, legs bouncing nervously as he snuck looks at her. Bun Girl was the one that never look away from her, though she kept her gun holstered. Either she was naive, overconfident, or the most dangerous one of the lot.

\-------

There was a fence, a chainlink thing that had clearly been taken from multiple other places, built up around an area surrounding the entrance to a road tunnel. Two men were standing guard near a sliding gate that leveled their guns at them as the truck pulled up. Bun Girl stood and gave a wave of her arm before the truck had even stopped. "Mike's group back yet?" she called, leaping over the side of the truck bed.

"Nah, still out looking." One of the men replied as he let his gun hang at his side from the strap over his shoulder. He moved to open the gate but froze when he spotted Sophia in the truck bed. He got a nervous look on his face as he looked back to Bun Girl. "What's with the kid? That's not why Boss sent you out."

Shane-alike grabbed her by her upper arm and hauled her to her feet, nearly costing her her balance in the process. "Found her while looking. Lucia thought it'd be a bright idea to bring her back with us." He herded her toward where the tailgate was missing from the truck. It was a little difficult sitting and sliding off the back without the use of her hands, but she managed. Shane-alike jumped down behind her before roughly grabbing her arm again. On instinct she tried to jerk away and for a moment she would swear she could smell her dad's cologne. He apparently hadn't been expecting that since he lost his hold on her and she stumbled a few steps away.

Five guns were pointed at her head by the time she had her balance back, bowed forward slightly with her arms straining behind her. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was not having eaten more than half a can of beans in three days making her light headed, but something had her upper lip curling back to reveal her teeth. "What? You gonna shoot me? I'm already tied up; you could at least let me walk on my own." She snapped, shooting a glare towards Shane-alike. "Scared I'm gonna attack you?"

He took a step towards her and she could see the way his fist clenched with want to strike her. She took another step back, mind flashing to the choked sound her mother used to make when her father hit her.

Luckily, Lucia stepped between them, hands out to stop him. "Easy, Frank." Her tone was placating, calm. "Just relax. She'd have to be awfully stupid to try shit while tied up and with this many guns on her." She turned her stare to Sophia, who straightened her back in response, "And she's not stupid, is she?"

Sophia swallowed thickly but shook her head. The threat was clear. Still, no one grabbed her and she was allowed to walk through the gates with Lucia beside her. Frank, Teen, and Shaved Head went in ahead while the rest stayed back at the gate to speak with the guards.

The tunnel was dimly lit by what little sunlight was able to slip through the cracks at the boarded up entrances and about a dozen or so crudely made torches attached to the walls. It made her think of a field trip her class had taken to a medieval show. She doubted this place would have jousting and plastic goblets filled with coke though. Once her eyes had a chance to adjust, she could see the outlines of bed rolls and sleeping bags along the walls. Way more than just for the people she'd seen. So that meant either these people were hoarders or there was a lot more to their group.

The tunnel, while cooler than the outside, was still filled with a thick, humid air. Now without much to distract her she could feel the heat of it really settling over her. Or maybe it was just nerves making her hyper aware of herself. She could feel a drop of sweat making its way down her back tortuously slow.

Another boarded up wall was at the end of the tunnel, sunlight trickling through the cracks. As they approached it she could hear the sounds of walkers beyond it. Her back locked up with instant fear; they were going to feed her to walkers? Why? Why bring her here just to kill her like that? She almost stopped but Lucia's hand firm on her back stopped her.

Chain-link fences, four thick and fortified with logs, blocked off an area roughly the size of the camp they'd had in Atlanta. Outside of the fence walkers were chained to poles jutting out of the ground a bit away. Camouflage. Two well-worn fire pits stood in the middle of the area. Her attention was drawn to an RV parked where two ends of the fences ended, secured to the front and back of the thing. She was guided to the door of it and pushed to put her back against the siding next to it.

"Don't move." Frank jabbed a finger in her face, scowling when she glared back at him. He and Lucia disappeared inside of the RV.

She looked between Teen and Shaved Head who both refused to take their guns off of her. When she glanced about the area she could see three tents set up against the concrete of the tunnel. Someone had rigged some ratted tarp to the top of the bridge their base was under to give some extended shade. There were buckets scattered about as well; catching rainwater, maybe? This place didn't have the luck of a river right next to it like the quarry had.

It took ten minutes for Frank to storm out of the RV, firing curses under his breath as he pushed passed her two guards and went for the tunnel. Lucia came out a minute later to pull Sophia inside. "The Boss wants to meet you." She gave as way of explanation before whispering to her, "Don't fuck this up, kid."

He was a big man, tall with a belly that didn't speak of the hunger that was gnawing at her own gut. There was a crater of a scar in his left cheek and when he lifted the gun he'd been cleaning to cock it she could see that he was missing the middle finger on his right hand. He must've seen her looking because once the gun was cocked, he pressed the end of the barrel to the center of her forehead. Her shoulders tensed and her eyes pricked instantly but she forced herself to meet her eyes. If she was going to die then it wasn't going to be the crying and scared little girl she used to be.

They stared each other down for what felt like an eternity before his mouth curved in a grin. "Hot damn, little girl with balls bigger than Frankie's." he laughed, setting the gun back on the table. He made a motion with his hand that had Lucia taking a knife to the zip tie on her wrists. Sophia rubbed at where they'd been chafed red by the binds, watching as Lucia moved to leave the RV. Lucia kept glancing back; she looked almost _scared_.

"So." His voice brought her attention back to him. He had his boots up on the table, flecks of mud and who knows what else falling onto the worn surface. "Little girl, lost in the woods. Didn't even have her red hood or basket for Grandma."

"Wasn't lost." Lost implied you had a place to be. Outside of looking for her mom, she had nothing. She shifted, uneasy in such a confined place. It didn't feel cozy or inviting, like Dale's RV had. "They took my weapons. I'd like them back so I can go."

"Shit. Little Red doesn't play, does she?" he looked amused and that just made her neck burn with anger. He was _making fun_ of her. "Tell you what, Little Red, you answer my questions and I'll let you keep the knife you got in your boot." The scar in his cheek pulled when he grinned at the way she tensed. "We'll start easy: what's your name?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Eliza." She lied, making sure to meet his eyes. In the end, even though she was looking at him, the blow caught her by surprise.

Her shoulder slammed into a cabinet from the force of it, both it and her cheek blooming with pain. A choked sob escaped her before she could stop it and she found herself curling into herself. It felt like her cheek was on fire when she pressed her fingers to it.

"See, I'm trying to be nice here. Simple question with a simple answer." He knelt in front of her, gun back in his hand. "How about we try one more time, else I might find it hard to be so nice. What. Is. Your. Name?"

She took a breath to steady herself and met his eye again. "Sophia."

The scar in his cheek pulled. "See? Not so hard." He used the gun to push a lock of hair out of her face. "So. Sophia. Little Sophie. Where is your group? Your parents?"

She shifted so her back was against the cabinet and the pressure was off of her aching shoulder. "Dad died near the beginning. Walkers got him." No point in trying to lie again; he'd do worse than hit her this time. "My mom...there was a herd. We got separated, I got lost in the woods. That was probably a year ago."

"Shit. You survived out there, on your own, for a year?" he let out a low whistle. "Big balls for a little girl. So, Little Red, what's your plan?"

She frowned at the question. Plan? Did anyone make plans anymore, beyond surviving? Even her hope of finding her mother was just a dream. Something to keep her going when she couldn't find another reason to. "Get my weapons back and find a safe place to bunker down before it gets dark."

His scar pulled again. "See, I'd like to congratulate you on a good plan, but I'm afraid it gets in the way of _my_ plans." He stood and moved to put the gun back on the table. "I'm responsible for keeping the people here safe. That's _my_ plan. Sometimes that means bringing in people that can help with that. Sometimes it means eliminating a threat. Now, Lucia seems to think you're the former. Frank says latter."

Sophia watched the gun for a moment before looking at him again. Her cheek still burned, her shoulder ached. "And what do you think?"

He worked his jaw as they studied each other. "I think I'm gonna regret it either way." He settled back into his seat at the table. "Knife—hand it over."

"You said—"

"And you lied first. Broke the deal." He smirked as she removed her boot and pulled the switchblade from where it had been secured to her ankle with a fraying shoelace. Its patterned metal had left an imprint in her skin. She set it on the table quick so she could put distance between them, as much as possible in such a confined space.

"Good girl." He picked up the blade, hitting the button to have the blade pop out. He examined it, turning it this way and that, holding it up to better catch the fading sunlight from the window. He scratched at a bit of dried gore near the hinge with a fingernail. "Here's what I'm going to do, Little Red. I'm going to give a shot. Let you prove you're an asset. Fail and I'll cut your head off with this knife. Got it?"

Hate bloomed in her chest. She could grab the knife, maybe catch him by surprise. Or the gun. Hold him hostage and force them to let her go.

"I asked you a question, Sophia."

"Got it. Sir."

\-------

One hundred thirty-four.

A hundred and thirty-four tallies carved into the edges of her boots, the first ones rough from the rock she'd used before she'd managed to steal a tiny kitchen knife from the weapon's crate. One hundred and thirty-four days since she'd been forced to join the group she'd named the Tunnelers. She was trusted enough to have free roam of the camp but wasn't allowed outside of the fence unless supervised. And even then, the only time she was ever really let out was when Boss decided she needed gun practice and sent Lucia out with her.

_Gotta make sure Little Red is ready if a wolf shows up._

She hated him. She imagined driving a pickaxe through his brain when she scrubbed at his laundry in a tub outside his RV. Pictured a walker chomping down on his neck every time he smirked when she said 'please' for a meal. Still, he hadn't hit her since that first day. Her belly didn't hurt from hunger, more oft than not. Everyone in the camp, the dozen or so men and women that made the camp home, gave her a wide berth. Lucia and Boss were the only ones that kept talking to her after the others had given up on her silences. Them and Frank, the one that reminded her so much of Shane, but he was less talk and more yelling orders. He seemed to hate her as much as she hated Boss.

On the hundred and thirty-fifth day, she'd just finished patching a hole in the flimsy canvas tent they'd given her to sleep in with some generous applications of duct tape when Lucia approached her with a grin. That usually meant target practice but they'd just went out two days ago. Boss never let her out of the camp more than once a week, and never without making her do some bullshit chore for him to 'earn' it.

"Oh, don't look so suspicious. I thought we were friends?" Lucia wrinkled her nose at her. "How would you like to go on a run with me?" she tapped a finger against the stiff duct tape sealing her tent.

Sophia's eyes widened and she fumbled the tape roll. The chance to be out for longer than half an hour-- maybe she could escape. Getting away from here...she'd already lost four months of searching for her mother. Even if she couldn't get away, she could maybe find a weapon to hide for later.

Her heart sank, however, when Frank stepped over, a ratty looking backpack in his hands. He threw it at her and she nearly dropped it as soon as she caught it. Empty.  "You two done jabbering? Cause I'd like to actually hit the road before dark, if it's all the same to you ladies."

Lucia tried to give her a gun but as soon as she did, Frank snatched it away. "Just stay behind us and you won't need a weapon." His logic was severely flawed but she didn't want to risk getting sent back. They were taking a small four door car since they apparently weren't going very far. Another group was out on a run that was taking a couple of days; they just needed a few supplies to hold them over until that group was back.

Their target was a small neighborhood that reminded her too much of her life before the Turn for comfort. It amazed her that places like this might even still have stuff left to take. There was only so much stuff in the world. She wondered if there was a place out there where anyone had managed to make a farm work in this new world. What she wouldn't give for a bite of a fresh strawberry.

They found a house with a locked front door and no broken windows from what they could see. Either a walker or something living was inside, but that also meant potentially untouched supplies. Sophia was left to watch the car while Frank kicked down the door and the two of them did a check inside. She waited until they waived her inside.

A walker lay dead beside the kitchen table and she could hear another one scratching at the backdoor that looked to lead to a small sunroom. "Upstairs is clear, why don't you go pick it apart?" Lucia gave her shoulder a playful shove towards to stairs. "See if there's a stash of chocolate somewhere we can split."

Sophia rolled her eyes but went up the stairs anyway. Two bedrooms gave her nothing besides some clothing to shove into her backpack. The bedding of one bed was stained nastily with blood, soaked all the way through to the mattress. The other, though, was salvageable so she folded it up and placed the blankets and sheets near the stairs. Winter had been hell, it was better to prepare ahead of the next one.

The bathroom was a better turn out. The medicine cabinet had several bottles of pills; aspirin, vitamins, cold pills, even a small bottle of sleeping bills. She dropped them all into her backpack, along with two rolls of toilet paper from under the sink. You never knew how important it was until you had to deal with a mostly canned beans diet without it.

A real treasure was in a drawer in the counter. Beneath an ungodly number of hair ties and a hair straightener she found a rusted old screwdriver. She wondered if survivors had hid it there or if someone had just left it there after fixing something in the bathroom, too lazy to take it back downstairs. Didn't matter. She squeezed the handle tight; good a weapon as any when you had none. Better than her little stolen knife at least.

There was a crash followed by the sound of Lucia screaming for help. Sophia bolted down the stairs taking two at a time. In the living room Lucia was on her back on the shattered remains of the coffee table, a walker bearing down on her. It used to be a man, and a big one at that. Lucia had a boot against the center of its chest to keep him off of her, jeans protecting her leg from its nails, while her hand scrambled for the gun that had fallen just out of her reach. Sophia could see where the backdoor was now open.

Sophia moved behind it, trying not to get its attention. She wasn’t tall enough to reach the thing’s head and without a gun…She fisted the back of its tattered shirt and, ignoring the warm squish of flesh coming away with the cloth, pulled hard. It came back, turning with jaws snapping and arms swinging to grab the new potential meal. She grabbed its throat when it went to bite her face and jammed the screwdriver hard as she could into its eye. It slumped forward, forcing her back so she wouldn’t get caught under it. The screwdriver was stuck in its eye. Shit.

Lucia was still on the ground; Sophia saw why when she moved to grab her gun. A long shard of glass from the tabletop was jutting out of the back of her left calf. She grabbed Lucia’s hand when she reached to pull it out. “Don’t. Right now it’s keeping the wound from bleeding out.” She remembered that from an old TV show. “We need to get you back. Where’s Frank?” she just realized, with a start, that he was nowhere in sight.

Lucia had to put most of her weight on Sophia as she stood, holding her injured leg off the ground. “Shit! He—ahhh—said he was just doing a quick perimeter check. Fuck.”

“Let’s get you to the car, then I’ll find him.” He had the keys to the car, and Sophia had never driven before. Not unless you counted sitting in her mother’s lap to steer the car into the driveway.

Once Lucia was in the backseat and after a debate of who should take the gun, Sophia moved around the house with the pistol held out in front of her. She found him in the shed out back, seated on a red plastic cooler with his nose in a magazine and a cigarette between his lips. On the cover of the magazine was a woman barely covered by a bikini. Her blood boiled. This is what he was doing when Lucia almost died? “Frank!”

He jumped in surprise, jerking the magazine behind his back. Idiot with his guard down. Anger quickly overtook his embarrassment. “The fuck are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be—shit; did she seriously give you her gun? Give that—“

“We have to go! Lucia’s hurt!” she pulled the gun out of his reach. When he didn’t move, she groaned and, in a moment of impulse, grabbed his wrist. “Move, you idiot! We have to get her back home!”

\-------

Lucia wouldn’t be making any supply runs for a while but the closest thing they had to a doctor, a former nursing student who went by Penny, declared she’d live. Her leg was stitched up with fishing line, a shredded t-shirt bandage secured with duct tape covering it. Infection would be the biggest worry going forward. The pain of it didn’t hurt her humor, however.

“Seriously, thing was bigger than Boss and only a bit nicer!” she moved her hands wildly as if to show how big the thing was. They were seated around one of the fire pits with everyone that wasn’t either on watch or sleeping off their previous shifts. Even Boss had come out of his RV to join them. The group shared a chuckle at her theatrics. “Thought I was a goner, then all of sudden there’s Sophia. All five feet of badass, stabbing the bastard right in the damn eye! Ha!”

Boss laughed again, setting a hand on Sophia’s head to muss up her hair affectionately and for once she didn’t mind the contact. Her cheeks burned but she still smiled, a glowing ember of pride in her chest. She was still stuck here but it wasn’t so bad having helped someone. Having saved someone’s life. Made her feel like a hero; she wondered if Mr. Grimes had felt like this the day he’d saved them at the quarry the day her dad had died.

“And where were you, Frankie? While Little Red was saving Lucia’s ass?” Boss asked, keeping his arm draped over Sophia’s shoulders. “Looking for the balls you lost?”

Frank stiffened, not looking up from the can he’d been eating from. “I was checking the perimeter. Didn’t hear the commotion. Thought Lucia could handle herself.”

Boss made a thoughtful noise, tugging on a lock of Sophia’s hair until she pulled away from him. He gave her shoulder a light swat in reprimand but otherwise let her scoot away. Frank had his focus right now. “That where you found the smokes?”

A cold silence settled over the group, the humor gone in an instant. Sophia hadn’t told him—hadn’t told anyone what Frank had actually been doing. Last thing she needed was for another reason for Frank to hate her. Could Boss have smelled it? Even with the sweat and grime and general stink they all radiated?

Then Boss was laughing again, leaning back on one hand. “Shit, we all need a break every now and then, yeah? That’s why we’re all here together. Watch each other’s backs. Right, Frank?” he grinned.

Frank’s mouth twitched nervously before he nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just needed a breather. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, yeah? Why we’re all together.”

“Good thing we got Little Red to watch our backs then.” He glanced at Sophia and she instantly turned her gaze to the fire to avoid his eyes. She hated the way he looked at her sometimes. “Smoke all ya want, buddy. She can pick up your next couple of watch shifts too.”

The insult was clear; everyone around the fire chuckled nervously. Sophia ducked her head to avoid Frank’s glare. Shit.

\-------

“You want out of here, right?”

Frank’s voice caught her by surprise. She looked up from the bullets Boss was making her take count of. Frank had been avoiding her for the last two weeks since the supply run. True to Boss’s word, she’d taken the majority of his shifts at watch, something that clearly rubbed him the wrong way. He still outranked her in the group; he had the freedom to leave the base whenever he wanted so long as he reported it to Boss, where she was still confined within the fences unless she had an escort. Despite having apparently proven herself she wasn’t trusted to not run away.

She frowned and returned her attention to the small notebook she was marking down the bullet count in. Another sheet had a hundred and forty-nine talleys written down. “Boss has made it clear my chances of that.”

Frank squatted down, placing a hand over the middle of her paper. “Listen, you shit. I ain’t gonna pretend to give a shit about what you want. What _I_ want is you fucking gone and out of my life. After that you can go fuck an Eater for all I care.” He scowled when she met his eyes. “I give you a knife and get you out of here, you disappear forever. I tell everyone you got taken down by an Eater so they don’t go looking. Deal?”

A knife might not get her very far—she might be able to haggle for a gun. No, she could find one once she was out of here. She didn’t want to push Frank if he really intended to help her escape. Things weren’t bad here, not anymore, but it wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She didn’t trust anyone here aside from Lucia. “Okay.” She nodded. “Deal. When?”

Frank smiled for real for the first time since she met him. He grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her to her feet, causing her to drop the pen and notebook. “Now.”

She still had a few hours of daylight left, plenty of time to get a distance away. Could spend the night in a tree and take off again at dawn. With luck she could hit an interstate or highway to follow to a city for supplies within a couple of days. She could be _free_. She glanced back at the zipped up entrance to Lucia’s tent; she wished she could say goodbye to her.

Shaved Head —Davis— was on gate duty today. He grinned when he saw Frank and knocked him playfully on the ear. “Frank, hey! Whatcha doing with the princess?” he winked at her, making her ears burn. “Boss give permission for you to take her out?”

Frank gave a snort. “Would I be here if he hadn’t said so? Doesn’t want his ‘Little Red’ wilting away. Taking her with me to catch a replacement for Shitbrain. See if she can’t catch ‘em as good as she kills ‘em.”

Shitbrain was one of the walkers chained to posts outside of the fence. An animal or something had gotten close and when he’d went to grab it, his skin had slid off enough to grease his way out of the chain around his neck. When Davis and John had tried to recatch him, he’d nearly got his teeth into John’s arm and had gotten a bullet to the brain for his efforts. Good enough excuse to get them outside of the fence.

Davis frowned and looked back down the tunnel towards Boss's RV. After a moment he nodded and moved to open the gate. "Careful out there. Wouldn't want to have to chase after ya."

Just like that she was through the gates, escape so close. She was so giddy she didn't even mind being pushed forward by Frank. He left her alone a few steps from the gate while he looped around to grab the chain for the walker they were supposedly catching.

They went deeper into the woods than she'd gone even for her target practice. She kept looking around, trying to orient herself. She wished she'd had time to steal a can or two of food. Oh well. Not like she hadn't gone hungry before. She nearly ran into Frank's back when he stopped, forcing herself to take a few steps back. "Is there where we split?"

The butt of his gun slammed into her forehead hard enough to send her falling to the side. Nausea washed over her to partner with the instant pain in her head. Despite herself, a whimper escaped her when she felt the wetness of the blood that was stinging her left eye and soaking her eyebrow. A boot kicked her hard in the side; she tried to curl into herself.

"Not such a fucking hardass now, are ya?" Frank mocked, reaching down to grab a fistful of her hair. He forced her up to her knees, bending her back until her spine was screaming. "C'mon, give me that look. Show me that _fire_."

She tried to pull away, tried to swing at him, but he just jerked her hair so she fell back to the dirt. The blow still had her dizzy, the world refused to still beneath her. She rolled to her stomach and tried to push herself onto her hands and knees. Had to get away.

Two more kicks and she was on her side again, arms around her stomach. "What the fuck is so special about you, huh?" his boot pressed painfully down on her hip, anger and disgust clear on his face when she looked up. Fear spiked in her when he lowered his hands to begin unfastening his belt. "Little bitch like you—bet he was the first yeah? Or maybe you had all the experience. That how you won him over? Became his favorite little bitch? Show me what ya got."

In a panic she rolled onto her back and kicked as hard as she could at his knee. It buckled under the blow and he hit the ground, landing heavily on top of her. She tried to shove him off, but he had weight and size over her, fury to beat her terror. She was trying to scream when he wrapped his hands around her neck.

She couldn't pry his hands off as he squeezed and put his weight more on her, effectively cutting off her air. She smacked his arms, his sides, dug her fingers into the dirt and tried to buck him off. No, no, please. Not like this. She couldn't die like this. Not with his face as the last thing she saw.

The knife! She still had the tiny kitchen knife she'd stolen. Her vision was black around the edges by the time she managed to close her fingers over the handle of it, still in her pocket. She used what little strength she still had to drive it into the side of his arm, pushing until she at last felt his hands loosen and he swore in pain. This time when she shoved, he went off enough for her to scramble out from under him, coughing violently as she sucked in air. She nearly fell again as she pushed to her feet.

She stumbled backwards, staring at the knife sticking out of the side of his arm, his blood sticky on her hand. Her whole body hurt but she could maybe outrun him. He was advancing on her with pure rage on his face. With a jerk, he pulled the knife out of his arm. "You fucking bitch!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. She chanced a look back; the sight had her vision blurring with fresh tears. Unable to stop herself, she ran to bury her face in Boss's chest, fingers digging into his shirt as she sobbed. He cupped the back of her head with one hand, the other keeping the gun training on Frank.

"I'm sorry! I thought—I just wanted to—" she couldn't stop the sobs, blaming herself for putting any amount of trust in Frank. She was so _stupid_.

"Shh, it's okay. This isn't your fault." His voice was so soft; it just served to make her cry harder. "Breathe, Sophia. Can you make it back by yourself? Will you do that for me?"

She sniffed and nodded, refusing to look back at Frank. She looked up at Boss's face; he was staring at Frank, face hard. Gone was the humor and arrogance that made her hate him so much. Right now he was just controlled anger. Vaguely she realized that he was probably going to kill Frank. She nodded once again before stepping back from him and heading back towards the base.

\-------

Lucia had the cut cleaned with a few bandaids keeping it pinched closed when John-- Teen-- came to get her from her tent to take her to Boss's RV. When she'd looked at it in the cracked mirror Lucia offered her she could see the purplish-black bruise that was already blossoming around her eyebrow. It matched the angry finger-shaped bruising around her throat from where he'd choked her. She still felt sick but she wasn't sure if it was from the concussion Lucia was certain she had, or from the situation. She wanted to just tell John to go to hell.

No. Just get it over with, whatever Boss wanted from her. She owed him at least that much for saving her life. Then she could just crawl back into her tent and pretend she was back at home. That it was just one of the nights where she'd crawled into bed with her mom after her father had finally stopped yelling and throwing things and left the house. Her mother would cry and try to hide the dried blood around her mouth or the bruises on her arms and she'd pretend not to notice. Sometimes he'd be gone for days and they could be happy, could pretend that he would never come back.

Boss opened the door for her, an unreadable look on his face. She flinched away when he tried to touch her forehead and for once he didn't get irritated or reprimand her. Instead he gestured to the table where he'd sat when she'd first been brought to him. She was suspicious but took a seat.

"Lit—Sophia. I owe you an apology." He began diplomatically, taking a seat across from her. "When you came here, I said my plan was to keep my people safe, and that is my top priority. You are one of my people, whether you like it or not. Shit, I like you, kid. But I failed to keep you safe. And for that I'm sorry."

She frowned and found herself focusing on his shredded knuckles. Had he killed Frank? Left him out there for the walkers to tear apart? Frank had been the one that told him to kill her that first day. Did they regret not doing so now? They lost one of the higher ranked members of the group but had also learned what sort of man he was. "Does that mean I can leave now?" she looked up at his face. "Since you can't keep me safe?"

Boss actually chuckled at that, shaking his head. "See, that's why I like you. Bold." He stood to step over to the door to the tiny bathroom the RV had. For the first time since coming in, she saw blood staining the floor right in front of the door. "I got a present for you. To make up for my mistake." He slid the door open.

Frank was sat on the toilet, naked aside from a pair of boxers, arms seemingly bound behind his back and a strip of duct tape over his mouth. His boxers were black with blood over his groin, red running down his thighs. His face was nearly unrecognizable beneath the beating it had clearly taken.

"Kept saying you had the bigger balls, Little Red." Boss said, dragging Frank off the toilet. He struck him across the face— _simple question, simple answer_ —when he let out a pained squeal behind the duct tape. "Was gonna give them to you but figured that might freak ya out. Tossed 'em to some Eaters to fight over."

Two hours ago Frank had been a nightmare. Fear incarnate. Scarier than the walkers, than her dad, than death. Now he seemed so small and pathetic. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to run away. She wanted her mother.

Boss had pulled something out of his pocket and moved to press it into her hand. It was the switchblade he'd taken from her, that first day, the blade shiny and red. She tried to drop it but his hand closed over hers to force her to hold it. Her stomach lurched as he turned her to face the pathetic mess that was Frank.

"No, I don't—" she tried to pull away to no avail. Frank deserved to die, people like him shouldn't get to live while people like Amy or Jim didn't, but she _couldn't_. She didn't want to be the one to do it. "I can't—"

"Shh. It's okay." His voice was that soft tone from the woods again, oddly gentle to contrast the way he was pushing her. "First time is always the hardest." He blocked her with his chest to her back and used his free hand to grab Frank by a fistful of his hair. Then he was guiding her hand to press the edge of the blade to Frank's throat. "Firm and quick. C'mon now."

She wasn't sure who was crying more, her or Frank, when she dragged the knife across his throat. Blood sprayed across her face—she could _taste_ it when she sucked in a shuddering breath. As soon as Boss's fingers loosened she dropped the bloody blade, sending it clattering to the floor next to Frank as he bled out. She stumbled back the moment Boss moved from behind her until her hip hit the corner of the table. The life was draining out of Frank's eyes as she watched. He was dying with his blood on her hands.

Boss picked the switchblade up from the floor so he could push it into Frank's temple. Frantic, Sophia scrubbed her palms over her face, trying to wipe away the blood and the tears, forgetting for a moment of the blood on her palms. He caught her wrists, holding them away from her face as he made more of those damn shushing noises. Like he was trying to soothe her or something crazy like that. Like she hadn't just murdered someone. "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's done. It's over. Just breathe. C'mon, deep breaths." He smiled, a proud thing that made her feel sick, when she started drawing in slow, shaking breaths. "There's my girl." He released one of her wrists in favor of squeezing her shoulder. "You did great. First one is the hardest, but it gets easier. I promise."

She didn't want it to get easier. She didn't want it to be just a thing she had to do. Walkers were one thing—they weren't _people_ anymore—but this...she looked at where Frank's corpse laid on the floor, blood staining the already filthy carpet. Two hours ago he'd been so close to killing her. Now he was already rotting, his blood on her face, on her clothes, on her hands.

Boss looked at the corpse and gave her shoulder another squeeze. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it; you've been through enough tonight. Go get yourself cleaned up and get some sleep."

Numbly she nodded, pulling away. She had to step over Frank to get out of the RV. She could see people staring, she had to be a sight, but it was Lucia, of course, that approached her. The older woman took her to her tent, a much nicer one than her own flimsy excuse of one, and zipped the opening behind them. Sophia let her rub a cloth wetted from Lucia's canteen over her face, her arms, her hands, to wipe away the blood and dirt. Lucia let out a surprised noise when Sophia moved close to press her face against her shoulder but didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around her.

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to remember when her mother's favorite perfume smelled like. The little blue bottle she hid in a shoebox in the back of Sophia's closet so her dad wouldn't find it. The one she only ever wore when Sophia's dad went on a weeklong fishing trip. The flowery smell that meant a week of peace. Sophia wished for even a day of that false peace. To have her mom pet her hair, not Lucia. To smell that stupid flowery perfume that her father forbid, not sweat and blood and dirt. To not know what it felt like to kill someone. To not already feel herself beginning to be numb about it.

\-------

It was Lucia's plan, not hers. She'd given up on thoughts of escape. The only way out of this group was death. While she never found out who they were looking for the day they found her, but she knew now that whoever they were, they were dead now. Boss didn't let people go. You were an asset or a threat. An asset stayed close, a threat got killed.

Lucia had been the one to slip the crushed up sleeping pills into his food before she had Sophia take it to him. Something to make him sleep long enough for them to get away.

 _I won't let him make you into a killer. We'll get out of here and find some place safe_.

He was on the bed now, where she'd helped him to when the pills had started sinking in. He'd thought he was feeling sick, the heat was getting to him, so she'd feigned concern to get him to the bed. He was happy to think she was worried about him. To think that she had finally come around, she finally understood and accepted him.

He cared about her. That was the worst of it, really. She could see it in his face whenever he looked at her, the past few months. Maybe he even loved her in his own twisted way. He kept her close to keep her safe but he never coddled her the way everyone in her old group had. She'd bet her own father had never cared for her half as much as Boss did.

Maybe she cared about him too. Maybe that's why she hated him so much: because she couldn't. He scared her, infuriated her, but at the same time she knew he wanted her safe. Wanted her strong so she could survive this world. He would kill to keep her safe and that shouldn't mean love but it did. It meant a lot. It meant she could forgive him for everything that had happened.

But Boss didn't let people go. Once he woke up, he'd hunt them down. Drag them both back, if they were lucky. Kill them both if they weren't. Or maybe he'd just kill Lucia and drag Sophia back. She didn't know which was worse, truly. The only way out was with death. So she pressed the knife to his neck.

Firm and quick.

Blood welled up and his eyes shot open. Fear gripped her. He wasn't supposed to wake up. "I'm sorry." She stepped back to avoid the hand he stretched towards her, his other one clamping down over the slice. Red leaked through his fingers. "I'm sorry. You would've—I don't want you chasing me." She repeated. Then she was rushing to the back of the RV. Thirty seconds and she had the window open. Ten more to climb out and her feet touched down outside of the fence.

She didn't have too long before they found him, he would turn before too long, so she took off running as soon as she hit the ground. She thought of Frank, of his bloodied face. Would they do that to her for killing Boss? Worse? They'd have to catch her first. She refused to die after everything. She was a survivor, not the little girl clinging to a doll that she'd been. This wasn't where she died.

Lucia was waiting for her in the clearing where they practiced shooting. Sophia ran to hug her, squeezing extra tight. "We have to go. Now." She moved to support her. They'd be slow enough with Lucia's leg; it still amazed her she'd been able to get out alone with it. Her place in the group was high enough to not be questioned. "Did you get the keys for the car?"

"Hold up, we've got a minute." Lucia pulled back, bracing her weight instead on a tree. She lifted the bottom of her shirt to reveal a small black gun tucked into the waistband of her pants. "Take it. Don't want to get caught by an Eater with only a knife, not with my leg the way it is."

Sophia took it; she _did_ need a gun, after all. "We don't have much time, we have to _go_."

Lucia pushed away her frantic hands, frowning. "It'll be at least an hour before they get suspicious enough to check, and he'll still be—" she stopped, eyes locked on Sophia's face. "Sophia, you didn't—"

"He wouldn't have just let us go! He would've kept looking for us!" she insisted, hating the way Lucia was looking at her. Hated herself for how easily she was justifying what she'd done. Hated how Lucia's eyes watered at the meaning of her words. "I did what I had to do. So we could get away. He was never going to let me out of that camp. Please. I couldn't-after Frank, I-please. We need to go."

Lucia nodded, wiping her eyes. "We-lets go. Quick."

Sophia turned away to cock her gun, needed to be ready, when a gunshot rang out, echoing through the trees. She looked back to see Lucia sliding down the tree.

It was Davis, holding a shotgun in shaking hands. He looked like he'd been the one shot rather than the shooter. "I didn't mean to- I just wanted to warn—" whatever his excuse was, she didn't care. She lifted her gun and with a pull of the trigger the back of his head exploded. He hit the ground with a thud.

She fell beside where Lucia was slumped against the tree, hands bright red where they were pressed over the wound in her stomach. Her eyes stung at the sight. Even if she went back, they couldn't help her. She needed a hospital, real doctors. Lucia was going to die sure as if it was a bite.

"I-I had a little girl, you know." Lucia coughed out the words, tears rolling down her cheeks. There was a sad smile on her face when Sophia met her eye. "Would've...been almost your age now."

Sophia could feel her jaw quivering. "...what was her name?" she asked because it felt like she was supposed to. Supposed to know who Lucia had apparently using her to replace this whole time. Same as Sophia had been using her.

"Julieta. Julieta Marie." Her back arched with a spasm of pain. Sophia grabbed one of her bloody hands and squeezed. "I just...wanted to protect you." She lifted a hand to touch Sophia's cheek, smearing blood and smiling sadly again. "You're so strong, Niña. Stronger than me. Than him. Than anyone. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from that."

Sophia shook her head. It wasn't up to anyone to protect her but her. She _was_ strong. Strong enough to know it would be a while before Lucia died from her wound. That it would be painful. That walkers could show up, tear her apart, before then. Strong enough to kiss Lucia's cheek and whisper a goodbye. Strong enough to pull the trigger once more.

Boss was right. It did get easier.


	8. The Follow-Up - Carol POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to both Linda and Avidly for their lovely comments! You both helped me immensely with finding the motivation to write this chapter

Carol was reeling, disoriented still long after she sent Sophia to the living room to sleep. It nauseated her to know what her daughter had been through while they'd been apart. She couldn’t find it in herself to fault her logic for the kills but she could see the coldness that had scared Daryl. Carol was intimately familiar with that coldness. Sometimes you had to be cold in this world to survive, to protect the ones you loved. Carol knew that, accepted it, breathed it in and felt the poison of it in her soul. And she was proud, so proud, that her daughter was strong enough for the world but it still broke her heart. Filled her with a hypocritical fear that she didn't know what to do with.

It was Rick that took her arm, drawing her out of her thoughts. No one had spoken since Sophia had finished her story and left them to sort through it. His face was soft and it struck her how much she loved him despite everything they'd been through thanks to each other. He was family and there was an understanding to his gaze that helped calm the immediate fears. He gestured toward the door; she nodded, casting a look at where Daryl still stood in the corner. He moved to follow but stopped when she shook her head. They’d talk about this later.

They relieved Tara and Rosita from watch, taking the two women’s seats on the hood of a truck that probably hadn’t moved since before the Turn. Carol passed his rifle back to him once he settled next to her. “So. Say it. You’ve got an opinion on what to do; I can practically smell it on you.”

Rick gave her a look, equal parts measuring and sincere. Then he was looking forward again, fingers smoothing over the ridges and dips in the rifle’s surface. “Remember when Carl killed that kid, back at the prison?” he hunched forward a bit. “I thought I lost him. All I could think was how disappointed Lori would’ve been with me. With what I'd let her boy become, with what _I_ had become.”

Carol frowned and looked back towards the house. She pictured the way that Carl always slept next to whatever makeshift crib they could find for Judith; the way he looked at his sister, like she’d hung the moon in the sky. She pictured the number of times she’d woken up to find him asleep with a resting on her stomach as if to reassure himself that she was there. “He’s a good boy, Rick. Lori would see that.”

“Best thing I ever did, him and Judy.” He smiled sadly when he looked back at her. She wondered if he still questioned things, with Judith and Shane. The girl was his, no doubt, but still one had to wonder sometimes. “I was terrified of losing him, but…shit, Carol, I was _proud_. That he could make a call like that, you know? And that scared me about myself. That I could be proud because my son could kill someone. That’s why I put my gun down, why I stepped down.”

She mirrored his smile. “We can’t put them down now.” She turned her face up to look at the stars above them. Before, she hadn’t been able to understand Rick’s fears over Carl’s actions. Now…it was almost like she’d forgotten what it was like to be a parent. What was right and what was right for your child didn’t always line up. Even though you knew it was wrong, you still believed that your child was somehow special, that they deserved to be above the rules of the world. Maybe she would've realized this sooner if she hadn't forced herself to close her heart to truly loving Lizzie and Mika until it was too late to save either of them. “Did it get easier for you?”

_Boss was right. It did get easier._

Rick let out a humorless huff of a laugh. “Easier to do, yeah. Living with it though…” he shook his head. “But I don’t want that for them. It kills me to know that one day Judy will probably have to…to know this is the world we’ve built for her. For Carl. For Sophia.” He leaned back until his back was pressed to the cracked glass of the windshield. “You’re my family, Carol. So is she. I never should’ve—”

“Don’t.” she laid back next to him. “Don’t. We both did what we thought was best. We won’t get anywhere by dwelling.” She closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead. Headache coming on. “I tried to leave, you know. After Terminus.” She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to tell him now, but it felt like she was supposed to. Maybe to let him know that she wouldn't do it again.

“I know. I could see it on you. But I knew Daryl could too and he wasn’t gonna let you out of sight anytime soon.” He gave an actual laugh at the look she shot him. “Just because you two still haven’t figured it out doesn’t mean the rest of us haven’t.”

“I could say the same about you and a certain samurai.” She teased by way of deflection. Whatever there was between her and Daryl…well, that was something she didn’t have the energy to think about right now. Not yet. Still she wouldn’t deny it. “I don’t want it to be easy for her.” She circled back, “I thought…I blamed myself for her disappearing. Because I didn’t teach her to be strong enough for this world. Coddled her too much. Now I’m scared strong is all she is.”

Rick’s hand found her wrist and gave a brief squeeze. “It’s not. We’re gonna bring her back to us, same as we did with Carl. Just gotta give her some time. We don’t give up on family, no matter what we become.” He pushed himself back into a sitting position. “You’d make a hell of a farmer, you know. Once we find our new home.”

She snorted and bumped her knee against his side. After a moment, she sat up, moving a hand to his shoulder. “You’re a good father, Rick. And a good friend. No matter what we become.”

He smiled back at her, giving her knee a pat. “You’re a good mother, and a better friend than I deserve.”

\-------

They found the remains of the community Noah’s family had been in after two weeks of travel. They’d found a large house not too far from the community to split ways. Part to search the nearby area, part to stay in place with Judith, and part to see if there was hope to be found with Noah’s family.

Carol felt true sorrow for the poor boy when they saw the mutilated bodies that littered the grass of the compound, heart echoing back to finding the smoking remains of the prison. They split to pick the place apart, not that there was likely much left. Whatever had happened to this place had been living.

Beth volunteered to go with Noah to check the house his family had lived in, see if there was a chance they got away. Rosita and Abraham made up group two for checking one portion, with Carol and Sophia as a third for a separate area, though Sophia argued that they'd cover more ground separate. That left Daryl and Rick on watch by the gate.

They walked down a line of houses before picking one to start with. Carol had to grab Sophia's shoulder when she tried to make for the stairs; she just wasn't comfortable with the girl too far from her yet, not after what she'd learned. She was still trying to sort through what Sophia'd been through and what she'd discussed with Rick. She didn't know _how_ to bring her back, barely had a grasp on where she herself was at, but she knew one thing: she was keeping Sophia close. If a call like that, to kill someone, came up, she didn't want Sophia to have to make it. Carol could do at least that much.

"Watch the door for me." She told her before going a bit deeper into the first floor. They could tackle upstairs together once she'd cleared downstairs. It would take more time but was ultimately safer. By the looks of the place, it was likely Noah was going to need some time to mourn. They'd help him dig the holes and place the stick crosses if his family hadn't been lucky enough to escape this.

The living room didn't offer anything and the kitchen had next to nothing. A few bottles of spices that Carol pocketed for some wishful thinking. If they could have a meal sometime soon that wasn't cooked on sticks over a fire, maybe she could do something special. It occurred to her that she hadn't really had the chance to cook for Sophia since they'd been reunited. Since before then, even. When was the last time she'd actually prepared a meal for her? The quarry camp? Before Ed had died. She wondered if she'd ever get the chance to make any of the meals Sophia used to love before the Turn again. If Sophia even still liked that sort of foods.

"There's not much, but we got paprika if we ever—"

Sophia wasn't at the door. Carol felt a panic rise up her throat before she could squash it. She forced herself not to physically panic; her daughter was strong. Strong. She moved up the stairs, thinking the girl had just decided to ignore orders and check. When she failed to find her in any of the rooms, her breathing began picking up. She had a brief flash to watching Sophia run into the trees with two walkers hot on her heels, to feeling Lori's arms around her to stop her from chasing after her.

She ran down the stairs, nearly bowling her daughter over when she rounded the corner. She caught Sophia's shoulders to balance herself. "There you are!" relief flooded through her whole body. Her gaze zeroed in on the muddy plastic grocery bag in Sophia's equally muddy hands, on the mud that covered the front of her shirt and pants, on the fresh gore on the knife at her hip. "I told you to wait by the door."

"I know, but I saw this under the porch! Look what I found!" she held open the bag to show Carol the contents: two of those sports water bottles with the built in filters, four indistinct cans of food, and what looked like a Zippo lighter. "There was a walker down there; think they must've gotten hurt during the attack on this place and tried to hide under the porch before they died."

Carol stared in disbelief. The knife meant she'd stabbed the thing while under the porch. Very little movement; she could've been killed so easily. "Why didn't you shoot it? Sophia, that was—you could have come and got me! I told you to wait by the door!"

Sophia's expression shifted uneasily. "It wasn't a big deal, I handled it fine. I didn't want to waste the bullet and we were already wasting time with me guarding the door. I just figured—"

“Don’t do that!” she snapped before she could catch herself. She forced a slow breath in through her nose, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Don’t—don’t scare me like that, Sophia. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

Sophia scowled, angrily stepping back so she could stuff her find into her pack. “You ever planning on trusting me to look out for myself? You don’t have to watch me 24/7, you know. I’m not some helpless kid anymore.”

Carol sighed, “That’s not—I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Then what is it? You’ve been weird ever since I told you about the Tunnelers and Boss.” She stared hard, jaw clenched. “Carl said you’d understand—I thought you _did_ understand. But ever since I told you what happened you just keep looking at me like I’m some sorta—” she swore under her breath, turning away and slinging the pack onto her back. “You don’t have to like what I did, you just have to accept it.”

“Sophia, it’s not like that. I’m your mother and I just—”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t my mom for two years and I survived just _fine_!”

It was like she’d been shot, pain ripping through her chest and burning her throat. Sophia’s face was instantly filled with regret, but she’d meant the words. Carol held a hand up to stop her from moving. It was difficult to swallow around the hurt blocking her throat. “I’ve never stopped being your mother, Sophia. I’m never going to stop. I thought you were dead, Sophia. I grieved you every minute, every _second_ of those two years.”

“Mom, please, I didn’t mean…”

“Two years, Sophia. For two years it was like a part of my heart was gone. And now you’re back. You’re _here_. A miracle that I don’t deserve, but you’re here.” She moved forward this time so she could touch her daughter’s cheek as if to confirm that she was indeed here. “You’re here and you’re so strong and I can’t say how proud I am of you. You’ve been through hell, Sophia, and you made it through all on your own. And that’s my fault. You never should’ve had to go through all that alone.”

Sophia’s eyes glistened with fresh tears before she pressed forward, pressing her face into Carol’s shoulder. Carol hugged her as tight as she could managed and touched her lips to her daughter’s hair. “I’m never going to stop trying to protect you. Never. You’re my baby girl and I love you so much.”

“Ain’t this a Kodak moment.”

Sophia stiffened against her; Carol’s eyes shot open. He had a rifle pointed at them, a smirk on his face. Had he gotten past Daryl and Rick at the gate? Had they missed him in the initial sweep? Carol held Sophia tighter to her chest. She dug her fingers into Sophia’s shoulder when she felt the girl tug the knife at Carol’s hip out of its holster.

Then they heard the gunshots.

He turned his head just so towards the sound of the gunshots and Carol took her chance. She spun them so it was her back to the man, shoving Sophia hard away from her in the same movement. Sophia hit the edge of the wall that separated the stairs from the living room with a pained grunt but recovered quick. She vanished up the stairs just as Carol dove behind the couch to avoid the spray from the man's shotgun.

Carol had her gun out, firing two shots at the man when he took a step towards the stairs. One hit the doorframe behind him, the other hitting him square in the side. He only stumbled back a few steps to slam back into the door, nearly losing his grip on the shotgun, but there was no blood and he didn't drop. Shit, he had a vest. She made note to steal it off his corpse when this was done. He didn't give her a chance to press the advantage as he recovered quick as Sophia had and fired another shot that had the couch exploding fluff where she'd been hiding.

She rolled over the floor, heart pounding against her ribcage, to get to the kitchen. He was faster than her though. His weight slammed into her hard enough to send her to the floor. She rolled onto her back and kicked a foot hard as she could into his balls. Missed, hit his thigh instead. He grabbed her ankle, jerking it to the side, free hand grabbing the front of her shirt.

"Get off of her, you son of a bitch!" Sophia shrieked as she jumped on the man's back. She attempted to drive her knife into his neck; he shoved backwards so they fell onto the couch with Sophia beneath him. A choked sound left her and the knife fell from her hands.

Carol was reaching for where her gun had fallen in the struggle when another gunshot sounded, much closer, and the gun was sent flying across the floor. Another man had entered the house, this one wielding a pistol that he leveled at Carol's head. "On your stomach. C'mon, I don't have all day, ladies."

The man on Sophia got off of her; when he turned Carol could see a slit in his shirt that showed the shredded material of the vest beneath and a little bit of blood. Sophia must've tried to stab him. When he hauled Sophia to her feet while she struggled to catch her breath. "I had this handled, Sam." He grumbled. Then he let out a painful yelp when Sophia slammed her forehead against his nose, the wet sounding crunch audible enough for Carol to hear on the floor. He threw the girl to the floor next to Carol, his blood splattered across her forehead and dripping down her face.

"Clearly." Sam deadpanned. He let out a whistle when the other man went to kick Sophia. "Hey! You know the rules. Ladies! On your stomachs, _now_."

Their wrists were ziptied behind their backs while they were still on the ground. Carol kept her eyes locked on Sophia as they were dragged to their feet. The two men were rough; Carol didn’t fail to notice the one whose nose Sophia had busted was squeezing her arm extra tight. If it was just Carol, maybe she could fight back, catch them by surprise. But with Sophia right there…

Daryl and Rick were on their bellies with their arms similarly bound behind them when they were forcibly returned to the gate. Subdued but alive. Small favors. Rick’s mouth and the mess of a beard around it were both red with blood. Sophia made a choked sort of noise at the sight of the two men that had subdued them, each standing with a boot on one of the bound men’s backs.

It wasn’t too much longer when Abraham and Rosita were being dragged by two women and a man, Rosita sporting a nasty looking gash to the right temple. They were all lined up, kneeling shoulder to shoulder on the ground. She swayed a bit into Daryl where he was knelt next to her when she tried to keep an eye on where they placed Sophia down the line. Daryl nudged her in warning when one of their captors spotted her leaning forward; she leaned back as he approached.

One of the women stepped behind each of them in turn, tying strips of cloth over their mouths. She tugged the cloth until it was tight enough to be forced between Carol’s teeth. Carol had to press her tongue against the roof of her mouth to avoid the awful taste of it.

“Finally! Thought one of them got the better of you.” The girl with the gags called out to the newest enemy, a large man who had Noah by a hold on his upper arm. No Beth in sight though—Noah met her eyes and gave the briefest nods. Thank god.

The man laughed and shoved Noah towards one of the other men, who roughly moved him to the line to be gagged. “You kidding me? I’m insulted by your lack of faith.” He looked over the group, letting out a low whistle. “Shit, big haul today, eh? Tough looking bunch too. Damn, Ryan, which one socked you like that?” he bellowed another laugh, gesturing to the man whose nose Sophia had broken.

The man, Ryan apparently, snorted before wincing as it obviously hurt his busted nose. He gestured angrily with his gun to where Sophia—Carol leaned forward again to see how her daughter was hunched over, head bowed— was knelt. A flash of fear surged when the man behind Sophia, in reaction to the big man crooking his finger, grabbed her chin to force her face up. “The old bitch and the brat over there. Got a damn pair on the both of ‘em.”

The big man’s expression shifted, humor abruptly replaced with confusion then again with surprise. The scar in his left cheek pulled grotesquely when a grinned a nervous, shaken thing. Then he was laughing again. “Shit. If it ain’t Little Red, outta the woods at last.”

No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried on the fight scene, I really did -_- I hope you all enjoyed Carol bonding with Rick and Sophia


	9. The Capture - Carol POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you are freaking out about the new tag on here?

Carol wanted to lunge, wanted to stab and kick, wanted to tear the bastard limb from limb when he stepped in front of Sophia. She practically growled around the cloth between her teeth as he touched her daughter's cheek. Sophia, in turn, jerked away and he responded by backhanding her across the face. Carol saw red.

The man, disgusting vile _bastard_ , looked over to where two of the men were forcing Carol back to the ground, bending her forward as she struggled. Daryl grunted at her side where he was similarly being forced down. Carol met the bastard's eyes as she glared at him, breathing hard through her nose.

To add to her burning rage, he laughed in disbelief. He looked back at Sophia with eyes dancing. "Holy shit. Holy. Shit. Ya actually found her, Little Red?" he shook his head as he stepped over to kneel in front of Carol. With a gesture he had the men stepping back from her to allow her to push herself back up to her knees. He tilted his head a bit as he studied her, "You must be my girl's missin' mama. Gotta say, wasn't expecting to meet ya. Guess I haven't really made the best of impressions, have I?"

The gag was removed and she had to fight the urge to spit in his face. She worked her jaw for a moment to work out the ache, glancing over at her friends. Sophia gave her a pleading look. "She's not your girl. None of us belong to you." She finally replied as she turned her gaze back to him. "So you best just let us go. You don't want to mess with us."

He laughed again. "Shit, guess I know where Little Red got her balls. How about this: you agree to leave her with me and then I'll let the rest of y'all go." His grin grew at her glare, at the way Daryl jerked next to her. "No? See, I didn't think so. Real hard to let go of your kids. And Sophia? That little firecracker reaching for the knife in her boot over there? She's just as much my kid as yours."

Sophia let out a pained grunt around her gag when the man holding her wrenched her bound arms away from her boot. As soon as she made the noise, though, Boss had his gun pointed at the man. "Fucking hell, John. What about what I just fucking said made you think you could get rough with her? Get the fuck back before I lose my temper." He gestured with his gun. "Sophia, get over here by your mom."

"Stay back, Sophia." Carol tried to stand as tall as one could while one their knees. She didn't know what this man was planning but she could bet it wasn't anything they would want a part of. It made her skin crawl to hear him call Sophia his. "You lay a finger on her again and I swear—"

"Listen, I'm trying to be nice, lady. I'd rather this not be a violent custody situation, hear me?" he nudged her cheek with the muzzle of his gun. "You're my Little Red's mother and she's awful partial to you, it would seem. Now she ain't too sweet on me right now. Didn't exactly part on the best of terms." He tugged his collar to the side to reveal a nasty scar on the side of his neck. Sophia hadn't cut deep enough. "You know how trying kids can be. But I aim to make it up to her and not killing her mother for being a stubborn bitch would help a lot with that, yeah?" he motioned at Sophia again and this time the girl came over.

Sophia held still as he tugged her gag down to hang around her neck, eyes locked on Carol's face. "Let them go. I'll stay this time, I promise, just please—" she clamped her mouth shut when he held up a hand.

Boss kept his gun pressed to Carol's cheek as he stared at Sophia. "You honestly think I'll believe they'll just leave you? Nah." He used his free hand to brush a lock of hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. "So you'll all come back home with us.  We'll see how well they want to play with us. Well, nearly all." He cocked the gun and touched it to Carol's forehead.

"No! Please!" Sophia's voice was panicked, falling right into his trap. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt her!"

Boss smirked and looked back at her. "You want me to let her live? Fine. But someone has to take her place then." He stood and holstered his gun. He moved behind Sophia, taking a knife to the binds on her wrists. "Try anything funny and I'll kill them all. Choose." He pressed the knife into her hand.

Carol's eyes widened. No, no. He couldn't really— "Sophia, baby, no. He can—choose me!" she pleased, trying to pull away as they put the gag back in her mouth. She refused to look away from her daughter. Please, no. Don't make her do this. Sophia wasn't supposed to be the one to make these calls anymore.

Sophia's hand was shaking as she looked down the line. Weighing each life in front of her. Was she trying to detach herself from the situation, like Carol had at Terminus? Sophia's eyes stopped near the end of the line and she set her jaw. The choice was made.

They all watched as she stepped forward almost in slow motion. Rosita lurched against her holder, shouts muffled by her gag, when Sophia stopped in front of Abraham. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, the knife steadying in her hand.

Even bound, gagged, and on his knees, Abraham radiated the pride of a soldier. He met Sophia's gaze with a curt nod as if to give her his permission. He didn't try to fight, to pull away, as she touched the knife to the side of his throat.

Firm and quick.

Carol prayed he found his children on the other side, watching the blood pour from his neck. Prayed that there was even another side for him to find. Prayed that, as be slumped forward to fall to the ground, that they wouldn't meet him there soon.

Boss had the decency to allow Sophia to push the knife into Abraham's skull before he had her return to his side. There was no fight in the group as they were finished being stripped of what weapons and supplies they had on hand. Boss sent one of the women off to get a vehicle and clasped Sophia's shoulder like a proud parent. The girl stared blankly at where Abraham laid lifeless on the ground, his blood wet on the knife she still held. Boss let her hold it until the woman returned in a moving truck.

They were people hunters.

Noah was the first to be ushered into the back of the truck, followed by Rosita. Rick and Daryl took seats on either side of her when they climbed into the truck, each man brushing a shoulder to hers. She was silent through the tears she couldn't stop but still kept her back straight and chin level. Sophia was left unbound as she climbed into the truck and Carol was surprised to see her sit next to Daryl, hugging her knees to her chest.

Carol stood with the help of one of the men, Sam, but Boss caught her with a hand on her shoulder. "Not you. You ride with me."

Sophia's head shot up and she moved to stand. "No, you said—"

"I'm not going to hurt her, Little Red. Just need some insurance." He pointed to Sam then to the truck. Sam nodded and climbed in with the group, gun drawn. "If I don't make it back within, oh, say two hours of you? Kill them all except my girl. And if either of you get hurt by one of them, the other can put a bullet in this one." He gave Carol's shoulder a squeeze.

Carol met Sophia, Rick, and Daryl's each in turn. She saw Daryl scoot just a bit closer to Sophia before he gave her a short nod. He'd look out for her in the meantime. She smiled best she could around the gag. Ryan tugged the truck door down before moving to climb into the passenger seat up front. Carol could just watch as it carried her life away.

Boss sent the remaining three members of his hunting party back into the community to finish scavenging supplies. He kept his hands off her as he walked her the twenty minutes to his own vehicle. Even if she could kill him, she probably wouldn't be able to find where they were taking them. If the bastard could hold up to torture for two hours then they'd all die. She couldn't win this, not yet. Bastard was smart.

He took the knife, still red with Abraham's blood, to her binds once they reached the tiny two door sedan he had hidden behind some trees. He untied her gag behind her but before she could think he was being cocky, he used it to tie her wrists to the handle in the ceiling just inside the door. "Don't want you getting too uncomfortable." He explained, winking.

"Appreciate it." She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, really she did. She needed to play things right. He'd trusted Sophia enough to let her close enough to slit his throat before, after all. "So, you're Boss, hm?" she shifted, resting her weight against the door since she couldn't lean back without pulling her arms.

He started the car, sparing a glance at her. The car bumped violently as he pulled onto the pavement. "Trying to play friendly? Alright." He hung an arm out of the window, keeping one on the wheel. "Yeah. I take it our girl told ya about me. I'm not so bad once you get to know me. That'll take some time, I know, but you'll see. What's your name, by the way? Since we're gettin' all friendly."

Carol doubted she'd ever know him beyond the bastard that put her daughter through hell, that made her take Abraham's life. But Carol could play a part for now. "Carol. You kept my little girl alive, that's a start." She shifted in her seat. "She told me about Frank, the call you made. Thank you for that. Even if you're a bastard, you did right by her there." The best lies had grains of the truth mixed in.

Boss laughed and shook his head. "Yeah. Lessons needed to be learned. Glad to see she's better about it now." He ran a finger over the scar on his neck. "So, here's how this drive is gonna go, sweetheart. I ask a question, you answer truthfully. You do and I'll let you bunk with your friends tonight. Deal?"

"If my friends include my daughter, then sure. Deal. Otherwise we can sit in silence. Enjoy the views." She looked out the window towards the endless trees and stumbling walkers.

"I see our girl takes a lot after your. Fine. Deal." When she looked at him, she could see a grin on his face.

She didn't understand this man, the way he seemed to delight in people's fires. From the story Sophia had told, he wasn't one of those bastards that got off on breaking the fight in someone. He didn't want to break Sophia so much as use her own fire to forge her, make her stronger. And part of Carol was grateful for it, part of her could see his logic and admit that the lessons he taught were ones Sophia had needed to learn. But not by force, never by force. She'd feared what forcing Mika's hand would do to the girl and that had held her back. She'd been torn on the question of if she'd pushed her hard, if she had made her take a shot, maybe she would have been able to protect herself from Lizzie. But Mika was a soft and gentle girl...hurting someone would have killed her as sure as her sister did.  Or maybe she would've grown the coldness that gripped Sophia.

Boss cleared his throat before starting his questions, "We'll start real simple, alright, Queenie? Tell me the names of your group. There's the mountain man and the weepy Latina, what are their names? How long have you known them?"

Carol might've laughed at the description of Rick if not paired with the statement about Rosita. She would have to keep an eye on the woman; who knew how she would react to Sophia now. "Her name is Rosita. We just met her and Noah, the younger man, a month ago. Mountain man is Rick; I've known him since near the beginning. Both him and Daryl, the man in the vest, were with Sophia and I when we got separated."

"Atlanta. That's where your husband died, right?" he looked over at her, tapping the steering wheel. "Little Red told me he got torn apart by Eaters. What was his name?"

He thought he could unnerve her. That actually did make her laugh, a quiet chuckle that she couldn't squash. She was well passed playing the fragile flower with him. "His name was Ed. He was a bastard and I put a pickaxe through his head after he got torn apart."

Part of her still wished they’d thrown him on the pyre of walkers, not buried him alongside Amy and the others. He hadn’t deserved even that kindness. She’d still been afraid of him, even after splattering his brains in the dirt. Afraid that he’d come back for her if she didn’t pay him final respects.

Boss barked a laugh in response. "God damn. Our girl didn't mention that part." He shook his head, "So, you and the redneck, Daryl? Did you two start screwing before or after you lost Sophia?" he raised a brow when she shot a look at him, "What? I mean, I'm assuming he's giving you the old laid down rut around. Man was sitting just fine till you got put to the ground. Was almost hoping Little Red would pick him for our little example."

Carol frowned and tried to roll her shoulders if just for an excuse to ignore him for a moment. She wasn't bothered by something so crude, not really. More of a concern of him using Daryl as a focus for his 'examples' if he thought the man was a threat. "He's my friend, that's it. He just happens to get mad when assholes assault his friends. Which, by the way, if you hit my daughter like that again? I won't need to drug you before I slit your throat."

"So not screwing yet. Gotcha." He pulled his hand in to grip the wheel so he could reach over to squeeze Carol's knee with the other. To his credit, he didn't shirk under her glare and let her pull out of his reach. Still that infuriating smile remained in place. "It's not like I liked hitting her, you know. It's just—"

"Just what? Oh, let me guess, you just got so angry? She just needed to be taught a lesson? Oh, no, wait, she _made_ you do it. Really, you're the victim in all of this." She huffed, glaring out the window. "Don't make excuses; it just makes you more of a bastard. Own what you did and know that if you lay a finger on her again, I will kill you. Understood?"

"Oh, we're gonna be great friends, you and me."

\-------

His base was an abandoned military base; a series of barracks with reinforced fences built around them. The fences were guarded by both people walking along the gap between two layers of fence, similar to the prison but with the inner fence being largely made up of metal plating, and walkers chained to posts outside of the outer chainlink fence. The gate that opened for them had large wooden spikes attached to it, most of the spikes coated with dried chunks of gore. Carol hated to admit it but the place was secured tightly.

They must've had a generator or something, because inside the base each person she saw had a radio attached to their hip. Radios meant they had a way to charge them. The woman that took the keys to the car while Boss untied Carol from the handle in the ceiling used her radio to send confirmation of their arrival to Sam. At least that meant the others were safe for the moment.

"I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow." Boss told her while pulling her arms behind her to retie her wrists together. "We'll get y'all settled and then start you on your work duties. Under guard, of course. Just till we can trust each other." He took her arm to guide her along the way.

Carol tried to memorize every detail surrounding them, every step between the front gate and wherever he was taking her. She could see, held above the roofs of the buildings, guard towers that likely marked the corners of the camp. How many people did they have here? As many as Terminus? More? The others would have a hell of a time getting to them here...this place was a near fortress compared to Terminus. But maybe they could take it from the inside. Salvage this place.

There was a fenced off section inside the base with a patchwork roof of plywood. Carol's heart skipped a beat when she met eyes with Rick on the other side of it. Behind him she could see some of the others scattered between the rusty metal cots that littered the space.

"When we first get new people, we put them here, in the, ah, rehabilitation center. Then once you proved yourself, we move you into one of the buildings. Do good enough and you get your own private space. Incentive, ya know." Boss explained as they approached the gate to their little rehab place, lifting his free hand to wave at the two men standing guard. Rick kept his eyes on them but moved back when they approached. The men didn't open the gate; Boss just peered through the chainlink, "Now, where's our little girl?"

Sophia was near the back corner of the little area, seated on one of the cots. Daryl had an arm around her when she spotted the two of them, her daughter leaning against his side with red, puffy eyes. Boss's hand tightened painfully around Carol's upper arm at the sight and one look at his face told of barely contained rage. Before Carol could react, he let out a sharp whistle to get everyone's attention. "I see y'all are already gettin' nice and cozy here. That's good. But it occurs to me that this ain't exactly a proper place for women. Wouldn't you say?"

Carol didn't like where this was going and looked to Daryl and Sophia. He'd tightened his grip around her, protective even as she stiffened and glared at where Boss stood. "You said I could stay with my friends _and_ my daughter." She reminded him. She met his angry stare without hesitation. "You said you wanted us to prove ourselves. Well, here's a chance to prove yourself to us. Be a man of your word."

Boss's eyes burned as he stared at her, sizing up her words and their meanings. Then, just as quick as he'd been angry, he was smiling and relaxed. He laughed and shook his head. "You're right. Of course. I was being stupid. Of _course_ you get to stay here with your friends and Little Red." He snapped his fingers and looked back towards Sophia and Daryl. The girl had stood but was still very much in Daryl's space. "You. Daryl. Help me keep my word and my temper. You come with me and Carol here gets to spend the night with her little girl."

"No! You said—" Daryl was already standing and walking over. Sophia looked lost. "I told you, he's just our friend. You gave your word!"

"That I did, sweetheart. I said you could bunk with your friends and daughter, never said all of them." He winked at her. Daryl was already at the gate, waiting to make the trade. Carol pulled her arm free and moved to stand between the two men. "What? Something to say, dear?"

Carol's arms strained with her binds. She remembered Sophia's description of Frank's face after Boss had unleashed his rage on him. She couldn't let that happen to Daryl. "I'll go with you."

"Carol, no, I can—"

"Shut _up_ , Daryl." She snapped, shooting him a look. She was sure she was safer with Boss than Daryl would be. Her gaze returned to Boss. "Leave him out of your games. I'll go with you."

Boss made a sucking noise with his teeth and shook his head again. "Sorry, sweetheart. Your deal's done. This one's up to him. And it looks like your _friend_ made his call. Now, unless you want me to take the both of you..."

Carol's shoulders slumped a bit and she looked back at Daryl. He gave her the curtest of nods. They were beat for now. She stepped aside to allow the guards to open the gate. Daryl's shoulder brushed hers in passing as they traded places. Rick moved to undo the cloth around her wrists. Seeing the gate close with Daryl on the other side, his arms being pulled behind him to be bound again, was a sting. But Carol was already running through ideas for escape.

He fucked with the wrong people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo that was a lot of fun to write. Now I'm off to chapter 10


	10. The Interrogation - Daryl POV

Rosita's eyes were red and glossy, hands limp at her sides as she stood in front of them. There was no tension in her, the fight drained temporarily by grief and the trip to their newest hellhole. Daryl felt for her, truly, his heart echoing back to all the lives he'd given a shit about only to have them be snuffed out. But still he tugged Sophia to his side. The girl tensed, jarred out of her blank stare by the motion.

"You had to make a choice. Not just for you, for everyone." Rosita didn't look away from Sophia but didn't make an effort to step closer. "I accept that. We've all had to leave someone behind. I just want to know why him. Tell me why you picked him. I deserve that much."

"Rosita, it ain't—" Daryl tried to put a stop to this; it wasn't going to help any of them to know.

Sophia had a different idea, stepping closer to Rosita and tugging out of Daryl's hold. "He was okay with it." She fussed with her hands before tucking them behind her when they all saw the blood still on them. "He didn't watch anyone else, just...looked at me. Wasn't scared. Just accepted it." She moved a hand to scratch at the scar through her eyebrow and frowned. "He wasn't afraid of dying, so I thought—if you're not afraid to die, then you don't really want to live. If someone had to die, it shouldn't be someone who wants to live."

Rosita's face crumpled and she shook her head fiercely. "No, that's not—you didn't _know_ him. We just lost DC and he was...he—" she stopped and forced herself to draw a slow, even breath. "You had to make a choice, and you made it. You did it for your mom. And if he...if he accepted it, then at least he went out a hero."

"I'm sorry." Sophia took another step towards her before stopping. She bit her lip, "...I didn't know him, but he was a hero. I'm sorry I didn't get to know him."

Rosita gave a forced sort of smile and nodded. She wiped her face. "Thank you. I'll—tomorrow is a big day so we can figure out what to do." She turned and moved over to one of the rusted cots on the other side of the tiny enclosure they'd been locked into.

Daryl hovered a hand awkwardly over Sophia's shoulder, torn on whether he was supposed to comfort her. She hadn't protested him keeping an eye on her in Carol's absence but still wasn't exactly warm to him. He didn't hold her actions against her, same as Rosita. A choice had to be made. It was sick but they all had their own ranks of the group; who they'd be more able to survive without than someone else. It didn't mean they lacked love for the others but this was a world of terrible choices. And it wasn't like each of them wouldn't lay down their own lives first, if they could.

"You care about my mom a lot, don't you?" Sophia jarred him out of his thoughts; he jerked his hand away from her. She looked up at him with a storm raging in her eyes. "You didn't before, at the camp when my dad was alive, but you do now. Right?"

Daryl's neck heated despite himself. He cared about all of them, of course, but Carol...he nodded. "Course I do. We all do."

Sophia watched him and for a moment he wondered if she could read him easy as her mother could. Maybe reading Dixons was hardwired into their DNA. Carol had seen through Merle enough to threaten and impress him in one go, after all. "She cares about you too. A lot. That's why..." she scowled, looking away. "You were okay with it too. If I would've...I was going to pick you. But my mom wouldn't look at me the same if I did. Or...she wouldn't ever start to really look at me again."

Maybe it should have been disorienting, knowing Sophia had almost killed him. It wasn't, though. She was right; he would've been okay with it. Could've faced death proud to die for his family. For Rick and Rosita and Sophia. For Carol. "Your mom loves ya. No matter what happens or what you do."

She let out a dry, forced laugh. "She loves you too though." Her brow furrowed and Daryl didn't miss the small shake to her chin. "She...she's different now. I know she was strong before, with my dad, but we were always _scared_. And now we're not even though everything is a nightmare, but it's not just the two of us anymore. She loves all of you and I _hate_ it. But you—she _looks_ at you and I hate it. I hate _you_." A sniffle escaped her.

The first time Merle had disappeared, Daryl had been eleven, maybe twelve. His brother had stolen a six pack from their dad and run off with a girl he'd been sweet on. They'd been gone for a week before her daddy had brought them back, battered and blue. Daryl had hated the girl. Hated her more than anything. More than the beating he'd taken in place of Merle when their dad found out about the missing beer, more than Merle's shit eating grin when he bragged about all the things he'd done with the girl while he'd left Daryl to deal with the fallout. Merle was a piece of shit but Daryl would've followed him to the end of the Earth back then. Anyone that could draw his attention away from Daryl was the enemy, someone to hate and wish away.

No matter what Sophia had done, what she'd seen, she was still a scared little girl. A scared little girl that wanted her mother's complete attention. So he could hate Daryl. He got it. He understood it, let it fuel him to put a hand on her shoulder and tug her against his side. "I ain't goin' anywhere, so you best get used to hatin' me, runt." He tried to tease, moving his hand to ruffle the side of her hair.

She leaned against him and he felt her slip a hand beneath his vest to grab a fistful of his shirt. It was quiet for a moment before she sniffed again. "Carl...he told me about how you looked for me, back then." She wiped her face and Daryl was fine pretending he didn't see. "How you looked out for my mom, even when everyone thought I was dead. I still hate you but...thanks."

He snorted, trying to push past the old shame of failing to find her. One day, when she could stop pretending to hate him, maybe he could tell her about finding the doll and show her the scars from the arrow that had impaled him. Maybe even thank her for giving him the chance to be a better man. Maybe finally thank Carol for seeing the better in him before he did. "It's what we do."

Sophia stayed beside him, a fist gripping the back of his shirt, until a sharp whistle cut through the air. Daryl tugged Sophia more firmly against his side when he looked up to see the bastard outside the enclosure holding Carol by her arm. He was saying some shit about splitting up the men and women—Sophia's hand tugged hard on his shirt— then Carol was firing back at him. Gave his word?

Boss's eyes were turned back to them, "You. Daryl. Help me keep my word and my temper. You come with me and Carol here gets to spend the night with her little girl."

How did—Carol must've told him. Whatever word he'd given Carol must've been in exchange for information, same as the deal Sophia had told them about when he'd first captured her. Him for Carol though? That was a deal he'd make in his sleep. Sophia's fingers tightened on his shirt but she let go once he stepped forward. Carol needed to be with her daughter, with the others, no matter the risk to Daryl.

"I told you, he's just our friend. You gave your word!" Carol's voice was desperate; she moved to stand between Boss and the gate that separated them. What questions had he asked Carol during their drive?

Daryl's stomach flipped when Carol offered to go with the bastard. No, no way. He'd never let her be alone with the fucker again if he could help it. Carol could take care of herself, but he wouldn't let her be put in danger if he had a say in it. "Carol, no, I can—"

"Shut _up_ , Daryl." She snapped, shooting him a look that had his heart turning to ice. She was trying to protect him; she was _always_ trying to protect them. It was his turn to protect her though; Boss shot her down and wasn't giving her a choice.

Daryl intentionally leaned to the side as they passed so his shoulder touched hers; meeting her eyes for the split second they were in contact. He wanted her to know that whatever Boss might do to him that it was worth it for her, for their entire family, but especially for her. He wanted to tell her something, wasn't sure what, but she was on the other side of the gate before the words could even begin to form on his tongue.

Boss grabbed Daryl's wrists and pulled them roughly behind him. One of the guards handed him a plastic ziptie that he used to bind Daryl's arms. "We're in for some fun, friend-o." the bastard hissed in his ear before shoving his shoulder hard to get him walking.

They were only a few steps away when the fence clanged behind them; Sophia had run across the enclosure and was gripping the chainlink white-knuckle tight. She met Daryl's eye for only a moment before glaring at Boss, Carol behind her with a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You kill him and I'll never forgive you, Boss! I'll kill myself if you kill him! If you take him away from them, I'll take away what you really want!" she yelled and slammed her hands against the fence. "I'll die hating you!"

Daryl could practically smell the anger radiating off of Boss, could feel it in the dig of his fingers into Daryl's shoulder. He couldn't quite stop the swell of pride in his chest at the girl's words; he wasn't worth dying for, not worth her life, but it meant something. Maybe she was bluffing; she knew Boss better than anyone and knew how to threaten him. But still the feeling curled in his chest.

\-------

He was thrown to the ground in a small concrete room, the air chilled from being beneath the dirt. Looked like an old storm shelter, big enough to hold maybe a dozen people before it got crowded. The floor was stained with blood, the edges looking like someone tried to scrub it before giving up on the task. The place reeked of death, worse than the world did. It was concentrated in this room. How many people had died in here?

"I always thought about finding her again, ya know. Wondered how she'd feel about seeing me again. If she found a new home." Boss tilted his head at him while Daryl pushed himself to his feet, awkward without the use of his hands. "Never thought she'd have found her mom again. Used to actually think about what would happen if I found her ma first. Coulda given her to Little Red as a gift." His fist slammed into the right side of Daryl's jaw hard enough to send him back to hit the wall behind him.

Daryl tasted copper; he spat red on the floor. He didn't answer the bastard though, just straightened himself with his back against the wall. Daryl could take a punch.

Boss laughed, rubbing his knuckles and watching Daryl. "It's amazing, y'know? You were with her, what, a few months before she disappeared? Couldn't have had much to do with her though, she never even mentioned you while she was with me." He paced the length of the room, fingers still dancing over his knuckles. "Couldn't be back with y'all too long. Was with me till little more than six months ago. Doubt she found ya right after. So, tell me, buddy. How long she been back with you?"

Daryl stared at him, scowling stubbornly. This time the blow met his left cheek and was followed by hands on his shoulders throwing him back to the floor. A boot collided with his stomach; bile burned his throat before he managed to swallow it back down. Boss knelt in front of him, grabbing a fistful of his hair so he could force his face up to him. "Answer my fucking question. How long. Have you had. My girl?"

His breathing was heavy, there was a wheezing in his chest and he was pretty sure the zipties were cutting into his skin at this point. Still he stayed silent.

"You think you can fuck with me, because of what Little Red said?" Boss laughed and let go of his hair. "Maybe I can't kill you. I think she's bluffing but I learned not to test her. But I can kill everyone else back there, so long as I keep you and her bitch of a mother alive. Oh, and you'd be surprised what someone could live through." He pulled out a knife, a small black switchblade. "Y'all don't need all your fingers to survive. Or both eyes."

Daryl's anger burned and he surged forward, shoving his shoulder hard into the bastard's stomach and pushing until he slammed into the wall. "Sonuva bitch!" he swore, stumbling back a bit before slamming against him again.

In another world, Daryl might've been proud of the struggle he accomplished with both arms tied behind his back. They were both bloody by the time the bastard's back up joined them to put an end to the fight. One of the women from the hunting party sat on his chest to effectively make breathing a chore while a man kept a gun pointed to his head to keep him from bucking her off. Boss snatched the red rag that had fallen out of his pocket during the struggle off the floor, examining the fabric before pressing it to the blood pouring from his nose and busted upper lip. Daryl hoped it gave him a damn infection.

"If the rest fight half as good as him, we're in for a hell of a time." His words were muffled by the rag. Daryl felt him nudge his leg with the toe of his boot and jerked away in response. The woman on his chest struck him across the face for the effort. "Tell you what, Daryl. Answer me two questions, two easy questions, and I'll send you back to your friends with all the same parts you came in with. Would you kill for them?"

Daryl focused on his breathing, trying to calm down instead of his usual nasty habit of shooting off at the mouth. "Already have." He breathed. He counted Rosita in with those he'd killed for in Terminus and he would've killed any of these bastards to save Noah if he'd had the chance, even if he wasn't too familiar with the kid yet. He hadn't killed for Sophia yet either, but he would. Would fill this prick with arrows, bullets, knives, anything deadly to keep him away from the girl.

Boss smirked down at him, teeth red. "Would you die for them?"

"In a heartbeat." No hesitation. He'd carve out his own heart for any of them.

"Good to know." Boss nodded to the girl and she finally got off of him. Daryl kept his eyes on the man as he moved to whisper something to the other man, who glanced at Daryl before nodding in response. A primal fear gripped him, but one he was used to. He made no fight when the girl grabbed his upper arm, merely kept his gaze locked on Boss who was moving to the stairs that lead out of this hole of death.

"How many Walkers have you killed?” he wasn’t sure why he asked, but the words were tumbling out before he could stop them. The girl was pulling him to his feet, looking between him and Boss as if to find out what to do.

Boss looked back at him with a questioning expression. He kept a foot on that first step to the stairs. “What does— I don’t count them.”

Daryl kept his eyes locked on him, comparing his answer to all the ones he’d heard since they came up with the questions. “How many people?” he pushed.

That was enough for Boss to step away from the stairs and move back to stand in front of him. He seemed to be sizing Daryl up before answering, “I didn’t see the point in counting after the first one. Not worth wasting the energy to remember every threat you take out.”

“Why—” a sharp pain cut into the back of his head, silencing him as the world was rapidly swallowed by darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer delay on this one! I ended up rewriting it like 4 different times cause I couldn't decide whose POV to tell it from. In the end, Daryl won out and I like it more for it. Hope you guys do too


	11. The Moments - Daryl POV

His whole body ached and his head was pounding when he came aware of himself again, yet he was oddly comfortable. There were fingers combing through his hair and something warm beneath his head. He tried to open his eyes but the moment the light hit him he hissed, stomach churning like the worst hangover. Carol shushed above him, one hand leaving his hair in favor of covering his eyes. "Hold still. You took a hell of a beating, even for you." She spoke in a low tone. Her hands were always a few degrees colder than everything else; poor circulation, she'd told him once. Felt nice on his aching head and the bruises around his eyes whatever the cause was.

"'m fine." He grumbled but didn't make an effort to move just yet. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his head must've been resting in her lap and maybe he should be embarrassed by that. Maybe later, when he could get over how pleasant it felt compared to the rest of him. He moved a hand over the thin mattress he was on, feeling to the edge and the rusted metal beneath. He was back in the enclosure? "How long I been out?"

Her thumb brushed softly over his forehead. "They brought you back in the middle of the night. You were in and out for a while; we've all taken turns sitting up with you." She lifted her hand enough to let him open his eyes but still made an effort to shield him from the light that was still daggers to his brain. "You're bruised all to hell but I don't think anything's broken. It'd be nice if you stopped scaring me like that, though."

His vision was a little blurry when he looked up at her, but he could see the worried set of her mouth in the way she way frowning.  He made the effort to sit up, groaning at the way his ribs and head protested the movement. Carol's hands found his shoulder and lower back to steady him. When he looked around, he could see that aside from the two guards outside the fence to their area, they were alone. "Where—"

"Work duty was what he said." She answered before he could properly ask. "Left me behind to keep an eye on you." That didn't sit too well with her, he could tell. Probably was itching to find a way to escape or to just keep an eye on Sophia. He absently reached up to awkwardly squeeze her fingers where they were gripping his shoulder. She gave him a forced sort of smile, "You look a damn mess, by the way."

"Feel a damn mess." He let go of her fingers so he could shift and hike up his shirt to get a look at the damage. His ribs were an uglier painting than the one he'd joked about with her in Atlanta. Carol moved at his side so she could look as well. He let her run her hand over his side and tried to ignore the way she lingered, just for a moment, over the little circle of a scar where his arrow had pierced him.

She reached up to tug his shirt back down, "Rosita and I both checked you over. She got some basic first aid training in the military. You're a mess but you should live." She glanced over to the backs of the two guards and he could see gears turning in her head. "We've got to get out of here. That man...he's a new kind of dangerous."

He nodded, thinking back to the way the man had boiled over Daryl sitting next to Sophia. The near jealous tone when he'd asked how long they'd had the girl. Bastard had to know that Sophia wouldn't be whatever he was wanting her to be. Musta burned to see her sittin' close to him like she was. Girl had her false hate but Daryl fancied she held him in a better light than Boss. "We got back up comin'." He whispered. Beth got out, could've tailed them and circled back. If they could get contact with them, attack from in and out at the same time...

"Worried they'll be too late." Carol was biting her bottom lip, eyes never leaving the guards. "Sophia—she's planning something. Wouldn't say what but...she can't be the one to put him down. Not her."

"Carol—"

"I know, I'm a hypocrite. I don't care. He means something to her, though." Daryl could feel the shiver that moved through her from where her leg was touching his own. "I don't know what to do for her, but if I can save her from that...from another part of her being burned away by this world, I have to."

There was a comparison to be made, of both Carol and Sophia, to a phoenix. The thought had clung to his mind since their talk in Atlanta. Burned up by the world until they stood in their own ashes, by her views on it. He didn't really see it that way though. He'd seen the strength in her since the quarry. The way she never hesitated to step between her bastard of a husband and her girl and the look on her face when she'd taken the pickaxe from him to drive through Ed's skull...woman was a force to be reckoned with from day one. Another thing he should probably tell her one day. As good as she was at reading him, maybe stuff like that still needed to be said.

Daryl was already set on shoving the bastard's little switchblade into his eye. Keeping Sophia away from him just made sense no matter how she felt about him. Who knew if that'd be possible, though. Hopefully Beth would get the rest to them quick but Daryl wasn't sure if luck had another grand rescue in the cards for them. There was that ever present nagging fear in the back of his mind; after everything they'd been through, was it possible to make it out again?

_Would you die for them?_

His hand found hers, fingers slipping between hers, palms together, and squeezed. She gave him that knowing look, that sad little smile. They shifted together so she could rest her head on his shoulder, his cheek pressed to her hair. He wanted to say something. The words that had refused to form outside the fence still escaped him. Nothing measured up to the pressure on his chest.

"Shush." Carol murmured as if she could hear his thoughts and squeezed his hand. "No matter what happens, I want you to promise to look out for her. You're a good man, Daryl." Her grip tightened. "Promise me. I have no right to ask, after everything you've done for us, but...I need to know that no matter what, she has someone good watching out for her."

"Stop." He knocked her head with his chin. He wouldn't say any stupid shit about how she'd make it no matter what. They all knew that was false hope as anything. "Don't gotta ask." Rick had made the same request, back when he was first coming back from his bought of being off his rocker after they'd lost Lori. Some shit about being a godfather. Daryl didn't need any promises or whatever to drive him to watch out for any of them. "I'm gonna get the both of you out of here." Maybe then he could finally make the words come out.

She lifted their joined hands and he felt the chapped skin of her lips against the knuckle of his thumb. "Get yourself out too." Her breath was warm against his skin. Their hands settled back to his knee. A display like this might be dangerous but he was gripped by the paranoia that their deaths may be closer at hand than usual. His death at least. He didn't know whether he could be relieved that Boss' obsession with Sophia would likely keep the girl and Carol safe or not.

_You're gonna be the last man standing. You are._

After they lost the prison, after Beth got taken, he could remember thinking on what she'd said. And how the thought of it, of being that last man standing, made his gun look awfully tasty. He kept walking on the thin hope that the others made it out. Kept walking on the instinct of surviving, on being too proud to take such a pussy way out when he hadn't been bit. Worked out in the end, even if they were right in the middle of the shit storm that was right now. Maybe it was royally fucked up to be happy to have gotten more time with all of them even if they'd had to suffer through the last two months.

If he died now, after everything, he wanted to remember moments like this. The feeling of Carol's hand in his and her hair against his cheek, her warmth spreading to him from where they touched. He wanted to remember Judith's babble; Carl and Sophia's secret smiles as they whispered in the corner of the camp; the look on Rick's face when he called him a brother. There were so many things, so many little moments and details that he wanted to remember.

He didn't know what was on the other side of this shithole of a world. Heaven, hell, nothing...he'd never been religious. Dixon men only prayed on football Sunday and when the beer ran out. Merle touched on it near the end, from what Hershel had said, but who knew how much of that was real. But if there was something after this, he could only hope it was just those moments. Hell, he could be trapped in this world forever, surrounded by the dead and the shit and the fighting, if he was promised those moments.

Carol tugged out of his hold too soon for comfort but he let her go, moving his other hand to rub a thumb over the spot she'd kissed. "You should get some rest." She touched his shoulder with one hand, the other moving down to hike his shirt back up for another look at the bruises on his ribs. "...I'm gonna see if I can't bargain you some food, maybe some painkillers."

"'m fine, don't." he tugged his shirt back down. "I heal quick, you know that. I don't need any fuckin' favors from them." He looked up at her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. They'd started to fade somewhat after her forced rest at the hotel but now were back in full force. "You should get some rest too. Cain't be too tired when the time comes, yeah?"

She smiled at him; not the forced or sad smiles, but one of her real, truly sweet smiles that she seemed to save for just the right moments to make his stomach clench. "Yeah." She touched her fingertips to his cheek then he was looking at her back as she made her way to the cot a few feet from his. They'd sleep and then get ready for whatever the bastards had in store for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It liiiiiiiives. Hey, guys! I'm sorry about the delay, but various life things got in the way and my inspiration kinda dried up, despite what I already have planned. But, with my life finally slowing down and the new season awakening my drive, I can finally start working on this again.
> 
> This chapter was a liiiiittle shorter than I was planning but I found myself wanting to write the next events from a different POV than Daryl so...yeah. Hopefully will have ch 12 done in the next few weeks. Love you all


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